


The Perfect Crime - Completed

by MaraGiggles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Death, Drugs, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gangs, Illegal Activities, Multi, Racism, Sexism, Smut, Swearing, Threats, Violence, War-like scenarios, Weapon use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 05:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 61,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17677157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraGiggles/pseuds/MaraGiggles
Summary: Cop!Sam AU.  Sam Winchester had always looked up to his parents as a child.  They were so brave in his eyes, stepping up to protect the innocent from the gangs who ruled.  Officers with the Harlem precinct, one of the most dangerous areas of New York, Sam had always thought his parents invincible.  He thought they would live forever.Of course, the war between rival gangs changed all that.  Sam was only eight when he was told his parents had been murdered by the ruthless gangs that ran New York.Years later, and Sam finds his life to be as good as it can get in the heart of New York City.  He’s got good friends, a decent apartment in a fairly safe part of town, and has high standing within his precinct.  He had long ago come to terms with his parent’s brutal demise.  But things are about to change again.Another storm is on the horizon, a war unlike any New York has seen before, and Sam is about to find himself smack bang in the middle of it.  Secrets will be revealed, bonds will be tested, and the perfect image Sam held of his parents will be distorted forever.





	1. First Date

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This story is gonna have it all. Fluff, angst, death, possibly smut, the whole lot. I’ve taken a lot of inspiration from various shows and movies for speech patterns and gang activities, so dont be surprised if you find references to different shows/movies that include gangs/clubs/crews. 
> 
> Disclaimer! This is entirely a work of fiction. While I have used some place and street names from New York, and some of the mentioned gangs do happen to exist in real life, nothing within this story is true. Also, I took some creative liberty with places in New York, and have even renamed some (not all) areas.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Sam grumbled under his breath. He finished buttoning his shirt as the knock sounded again, more insistent this time. After glancing at the clock on his bedside, Sam cursed. He didn’t have time for visitors, and he prayed that it wasn’t his nosy neighbour. 

Fortunately, the suspect at his door called out a few seconds later, and it wasn’t his neighbour. Unfortunately he still recognised the voice, and his shoulders sagged in almost defeat as he trudged from his bedroom. 

“Come on, dude, we know you’re in there!”

‘We’ being his brother, Dean, and his partner, Cas. By the giggling coming from the other side, he realised they had Charlie with them too, and that annoyed him. She should know he didn’t have time for them right then. 

“What do you want?” he asked bluntly as he pulled open his front door, greeted with his three closest friends in the world standing in the hall. Dean, Cas, and Charlie all grinned widely at him as they pushed their way in, bottles of whiskey and coke in their hands. “Guys, come on, I don’t have time for this!”

“We know,” divulged Cas as he passed him, following Dean and Charlie over to his rather small living space. “But we also know that you won’t tell us anything about this date until we annoy you about it.”

“And we figured it was easier to wait here for you to get back rather than waiting until tomorrow at work,” finished Charlie with a cheesy grin, flopping down onto his three-seater and spreading out. Dean and Cas made themselves at home on the two seater, all three of them grinning over at Sam like Cheshire cats.

“You guys seriously need a life,” Sam muttered under his breath as he slipped on his shoes. He loved his friends dearly, but sometimes they were right royal pains in his ass. Yet, to be fair, when one of them went on a date he was usually just as bad. “It’s just a coffee, nothing serious.”

“You’re gonna be late, hotshot!” teased Dean playfully, throwing the cap of his first drink at Sam. 

“He’s right,” muttered Charlie, glancing at her watch before frowning up at Sam. “Don’t you dare be late, Winchester! Kat doesn’t usually do blind dates, do you have any idea how hard I had to sell this?! Which route are you taking?”

“Straight down 34th,” replied Sam, deciding to ignore the whole ‘sell this’ comment. He shrugged his jacket on before picking up his wallet and keys. There was no guarantee this would go anywhere. He didn’t have much luck in dating, and with Charlie’s words he held no hope this one would be any different. The fact that this Kat had chosen a coffee shop for their date only reinforced his suspicions. 

He doubted they’d have anything in common.

“No way, dude, you should head up to 42nd,” began Dean leaning forward ready to give instructions. Cas cut him off before he got any further.

“42nd? Are you kidding me? He’ll never reach the Quad in time! What he wants to do is take-”

“Goodbye, guys!” called Sam, shaking his head when not one of them so much as glanced his way. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t needed for this argument. And Dean was right, he was going to be late if he didn’t hurry.

Thankfully he made it to the Quad in fifteen minutes, which was a miracle in his experience. He wasn’t sure what this Kat looked like, but Charlie had told him to meet her outside the coffee shop. After paying for the cab fare, he turned and scanned the minimal crowed out the front. There was only one person who wasn’t moving with the crowds.

And he suddenly felt overdressed. While he had opted for a clean cut, white button up and slacks, she wore a slightly faded t-shirt that read ‘I’m kind of a big deal’ and stylishly ripped jeans. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, swaying slightly in the breeze. She wore big black combat boots that, if he was being honest, might have intimidated Sam a little bit.

A smile lit her face when she saw him approach.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to be Kat, would you?” Sam cringed at how awkward that came out, but she only laughed lightly as she pushed off the wall. He grasped her hand when she held it out for him.

“Depends,” she replied coyly, raising one eyebrow at him as she pulled her hand back and stuffed both in her pockets. “If you’re the one and only great ‘Sam Winchester’ that Charlie was telling me about, then yeah, sure, I’m Kat.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “One and only, hey?” he repeated with a laugh. “Don’t believe everything she’s told you about me. Knowing Charlie I’m sure she over-exaggerated everything.”

“Oh, I don’t know, she was right about how hot you are,” she replied with a coy smile. Sam blushed like mad as she laughed, turning her back on him and heading off in the opposite direction. He stayed where he was, completely at a loss as to what was happening. After a moment she turned back, hands still in her pockets, and jerked her head in the direction she was walking. “You coming, handsome?”

“Not stopping for coffee?” he asked, pointing back to coffee shop with his thumb over his shoulder. Kat scoffed, starting forward again once he’d joined her.

“I only said to meet here because everyone knows where the Quad is,” she answered with a shrug. Sam copied her shrug as she turned her back on him, stuffing his hands in his pockets. At first he went to follow without question; he assumed she would turn on 6th and head up into Midtown. Instead she cut straight across 6th and continued walking down towards the Garment District.

“Where are you going?” he asked as he rushed to catch up, quickly pulling his hands free again. Without even realising it he moved in closer to Kat, ready to protect her if needed. Kat noticed his movement, but said nothing about it as she smirked.

“There’s this great little hole-in-the-wall place I know that makes the best pizza in the world,” she answered enthusiastically, her care-free attitude and bright smile doing nothing to ease Sam’s sudden apprehension. “You don’t have to worry, we’re not going too far in.”

“I’m not worried,” he lied quickly, eyeing off a rather tall figure in an alley across the street that he was positive was staring at him. This is a terrible idea. “I just know the Garment District’s reputation, that’s all. Do you come here often?”

Back at the precinct the Garment District was listed as ‘uninhabitable’. It had been that way for as long as he could remember, ever since the rise of street gangs in New York. It used to be controlled by the Reapers, until the gang known only as the Multitude took over their territory six or so years ago. Sam saw their mark on the walls as they passed a boarded up shop and cringed. The figure in the alley had disappeared when he turned back to check.

“All the time,” replied Kat, completely unfazed by how quickly the buildings begun to degrade the further they walked. The crowds thinned out just as quick, and when they took the next left, Sam realised they were the only people in the street. 

“Don’t worry,” added Kat after another minute, offering him a surprisingly warm smile as she laced her arm through his. Sam raised his eyebrows at her boldness, but said nothing to stop her. If he was honest… he kind of liked it. Kat’s smile widened before she lowered her gaze to the street before them. “You’re not on the clock. No one’s gonna recognise you.”

That pulled Sam up short. For a brief second, he forgot about the possible danger they were in as he stared at her, completely dumbfounded. What did she mean, not on the clock? Charlie usually didn’t tell anyone they were cops; it was just too dangerous. As a general rule, cops were despised by everyone thanks to the gangs who’d taken over. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” he tried carefully, forcing his feet to keep moving as she watched him curiously. She smiled when he caught up with her, once again linking her arm through his. Kat scoffed.

“You don’t need to pretend, Charlie told me what you guys do,” she whispered playfully, but Sam noticed the way she glanced around to ensure they were alone, first. When she turned back to him, her smile was back. “I think it’s brave, especially in this day and age. And honestly, you being-” she leaned in and lowered her voice, “-a cop- is the only reason my cousin didn’t follow us today. He’s a touch over-protective.”

“And he thinks I can protect you?” inquired Sam, raising one eyebrow as Kat slowed to a stop. It was hard to pay attention to her and keep an eye on their surroundings at the same time. A proper look around them told him they weren’t the only ones out and about, but they were the only ones who weren’t trying to hide. 

Could he protect her if a group of them attacked? Any more than three and he sincerely doubted it. Maybe he should have brought his gun. Although, he supposed that could get him in more trouble. Especially if one of the Multitude found him and did a search. If they found a gun on him he was done for, so perhaps it was better he had left his at home.

“Oh, no,” replied Kat with a laugh, pulling him towards a small alley. Sam almost balked at the idea of going down there, but Kat moved with such confidence he found himself following her anyway. It had nothing to do with not wanting to let her out of his sight. “Stefan thought you’d get me in trouble by trying to arrest people on our date, but I assured him you wouldn’t be that stupid.”

“Believe me, I’m not,” muttered Sam, sparing one last glance behind him before Kat tugged him into a little pizzeria that didn’t even have a name that he could see. Revealing he was a cop in this area was sure to get him killed before he could finish his sentence. He didn’t have a death wish.

There was still four hours before curfew, and Sam hoped to be long gone by then. Thankfully, once inside the building the sense he was being watched faded. The place was small, with only one window by the door. Besides himself, Kat, and the staff, there were only two other people sitting at separate tables. Sam eyed them both carefully until he was positive they weren’t a threat.

Feeling slightly more relaxed, Sam finally turned his full attention to Kat. And he quickly discovered they had quite a lot in common. They shared similar tastes in music, and in movies. He found out she enjoyed reading, and her favourite author was Edgar Allan Poe.

“I absolutely loved Annabel Lee,” she sighed, chin in her hand as she stared at the wall behind Sam’s head. “The flow, the feeling… such a powerful piece of work.”

“‘But our love it was stronger by far than the love, of those who were older than we,’” he started, watching the way her eyes snapped back to his in shock. “‘Of many far wiser than we-’”

“-And neither the angels in Heaven above, nor the demons down under the sea, can ever dissever my soul from the soul of the beautiful Annabel Lee,” she finished, a bright smile crossing her lips as she leaned forward. “Impressive. I had to fight my cousin to get him to even look at Poe’s stuff. I don’t know many men who enjoy his works.”

“We’re out there,” he replied happily, forgetting for the moment they were in dangerous territory. “Friend of mine enjoys his stuff, too. Although my brother gives us shit for it whenever he can.”

“My cousin’s the same,” laughed Kat as she waved to the waitress, then pointed to their empty glasses. “Except he and his friends do it behind my back.”

“That’s not very nice,” remarked Sam, pausing as the waitress filled their drinks again. He waited until she had left before he leaned forward and continued. “Why would they talk about you behind your back?”

“Because they know I’d kick their asses if they did it to my face,” she quipped, causing Sam to burst out laughing. Kat couldn’t have weighed more than 100 pounds, only stood up to his shoulder in height. He stopped laughing as he eyed her arms, taking note of how toned she was. Kat was short, but he knew size meant nothing.

“Well, good to know you can take care of yourself,” he said after she explained about her self-defence classes. He didn’t want to sound insensitive, but he sincerely doubted she could hold her own if some guy his size really wanted to take her on. He didn’t say that, however. “So, Kat… mind if I ask what your name is short for? Or is it just Kat?”

“Don’t mind at all,” she replied happily after sipping her coke. “You’re probably thinking its short for Kathrine or Katrina or something, am I right?” He nodded, making her smile grow. “You’re wrong. I’m originally from Slovakia, Kat’s short for Katka. Katka Biekral.”

“Nice,” he commented, the name rolling around in his mind. There was something familiar about it, but with Kat smiling at him like that it was incredibly hard to think. “No, really. It’s a unique name, I like it. Better than plain old Samuel, anyway.”

“Oh, I dunno,” mused Kat, her grin shifting to show some cheeky qualities. “Samuel’s a pretty good name in my mind. ‘God has heard’, kind of makes me feel like God himself is watching over you.”

“Oh… you’re not… religious, are you?” he asked haltingly, desperately trying to not make a face at her words. To his delight, Katka laughed and shook her head vehemently. 

“Hell no. I believe in a higher power, sure, but not one that has any power over this world. If they do, they’re cruel bastards and don’t deserve worship.”

He was liking Katka more and more. While he didn’t entirely agree with her view, he found her blunt attitude highly attractive. She was clearly smart, but didn’t flaunt it like some people he knew. And she was pretty down-to-earth, too, at least from what she showed him. Instead of getting flustered and embarrassed, she laughed when he pointed out she had mushroom stuck in her teeth. He definitely wanted to see her again.

“Oh, crap,” Kat muttered some time later, glancing down at her watch. “I’m sorry, I gotta go. My cousin will be waiting for me.”

“Hey, no problem,” Sam replied, wiping his hands on a napkin as they both stood. He glanced down at his own watch and tried not to show how panicked he suddenly felt. Curfew was in fifteen minutes. It would take him at least forty to walk home, and he doubted he’d get another cab at this time of night. 

Hiding his concerns from Kat, Sam let her lead him from the shop with her arm linked through his once more. Unsurprisingly, more people were now milling about the streets. Curfew was only enforced for the civilians like him. Gang members had rule of the night.

Sam kept himself as close to Kat as he could without seeming creepy, his eyes taking in every person they passed. A car honked at them as soon as they emerged from the alleyway, making Sam jump and Kat laugh. She waved to the waiting sedan, explaining the driver was her cousin. Sam had already forgotten his name.

“So… I had a good time tonight,” said Sam rather awkwardly as she smiled up at him. There were multiple reasons he wanted to draw their goodbye out; the main one being his fear of getting attacked the second she left. 

“So did I, actually,” replied Kat with another bright grin, as if she hadn’t expected to enjoy herself. In all fairness, Sam hadn’t, either. “We should catch up again sometime. And soon.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he answered with a smile of his own. After they organised another date, and Kat had yelled at her cousin for honking twice more, Sam bid her goodbye and watched her drive off. 

It wasn’t until she was out of sight and his mind started working properly again that Sam realised he was being watched.


	2. Plans and Plays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katka's POV

Sam was still watching her as she slipped into the passenger seat. Even she had to admit he had surprised her. He was far more attractive up close than those surveillance photos had suggested. He was smarter than most she knew, and the man knew his literature. There weren’t many who could quote Poe with such accuracy and confidence. She smiled, even though he couldn’t see her through the tinted glass, then turned to the man leaning against a nearby wall.

“Make sure he gets back to Midtown,” she told him quietly, turning her gaze back to Sam once the man nodded. When he pushed off the wall she turned back to him with a hard glare. “Untouched, Ethan.”

Ethan’s grin shifted to a grimace before he nodded once, letting his folded arms fall to his sides. Kat watched him a moment longer to ensure her point got across before turning to Stefan. He watched her with a scowl, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

“Are you done?” he asked with a strained politeness, his eyes snapping to Sam briefly. “May we go to our meeting, now?”

“You’re pushing your luck tonight, Stefan,” she answered coldly as he started the engine. He growled lightly in his throat, but didn’t say a word as she stared him down. Eventually he backed down and turned his gaze back to the road before them. She nodded as he pulled away from the curb. “Don’t think because you’re my cousin you can get away with being disrespectful.”

“I don’t see why you’re so invested in this guy,” he grumbled a few minutes later as he took a sharp left, leaving Sam behind them. She watched him in the rear-view mirror as long as possible before he disappeared from view. Ethan was already shadowing him as she’d asked. “Why do you care so much about these pigs? Getting Ethan watch over a cop, of all people. It’s disrespectful.”

The way he spat out ‘cop’ was reminiscent of how her father had once said her name. Kat shook her head.

“They’re people like you or me,” she answered simply, only a hint of coldness left in her tone. Stefan shivered when she turned her eyes on him, even though he wasn’t looking at her. “Charlie’s a friend, and a good one at that. You’ve shown her nothing but respect in the last few years. Why doesn’t Sam get the same?”

Kat liked the vibrant redhead. She was honest, and Kat felt she would be a friend even without her connections. Charlie had been in her life for many years now. It wasn’t until later she learned about her friendship with the Winchesters, and just how useful that friendship could become.

“Ok, first, we didn’t know she was a cop to begin with,” replied Stefan angrily, glancing at her for a second before watching the road again. They slowed as they passed through the gate from the Garment District. The guards on duty nodded respectfully as they passed, both recognising the car on sight. They would be preparing to shut the gates around now. “And the only reason I never said anything when we did find out is because of Jo. You know how much she loves her, and besides, Charlie doesn’t act like a cop. She doesn’t have that ‘holier than you’ attitude.”

“Neither does Sam,” she retorted. She went over everything she knew about Sam Winchester in her mind, locking away the new information she had learnt tonight. There was more to the cop than she had ever assumed, which was a mistake on her part. 

She knew better than anyone to assume anything when it came to a Winchester.

“Please,” he scoffed as she saw the gates behind them close. Curfew was in effect. “I saw the way he was looking at everyone. If you weren’t with him Micko and Dave would have kicked his ass for that look alone.”

“Micko and Dave would have shot him simply for stepping foot in Garment if I wasn’t there,” she snapped back, on the verge of losing her cool. She took a deep breath as Stefan swallowed audibly, seeking to calm herself before she continued. “Any hatred Sam and his brother have towards those like us is totally justifiable. As far as they’re concerned gangs murdered their parents. Even without the name Winchester, Sam has every right to be wary in our territory.”

As silence fell over them Kat turned to watch the buildings pass outside. People scattered as the car neared, disappearing down alleys and side streets, some tripping over in their haste. She idly wondered if Sam had made it back to Midtown, yet. 

His own place down in the Rose Hill District was too far for him to hope to make it back in time, but his brother lived in Midtown with his work partner, as did Jo and Charlie. If he was as smart as she gave him credit for, he would head to Jo and Charlie’s before it got too dark. They were closer than Dean and Castiel.

“The Winchester’s have always stuck their nose in where it doesn’t belong,” said Stefan a few minutes later. Kat glanced over at him, her patience wearing thin. “The Harlem precinct would still be-”

“The Harlem precinct signed its death warrant long before Mary and John joined them,” she interrupted with a tone of finality. Stefan recognised that tone and dropped any and all snide comments he had left on the Winchesters as they pulled up outside the gates to the Nomad District. “They wouldn’t have survived the war with or without the deals Mary made with the DDP. If anything, the Winchester’s bought them a few more months. But it doesn’t matter, either way my plan still stands.”

She shouldn’t be so harsh with Stefan for not understanding what she did. Henry told her all the stories before he had died so she would be prepared when the time came. She was the leader, not Stefan. It was her job to know, and his to obey.

“And what is your plan?” asked Stefan stiffly, making a point of not looking over at her. “I still don’t see how the Winchesters come into all this. People Nation-”

“Is gone,” she said, once again cutting him off. They’d had this conversation far too many times to count already. Kat figured it was time to let him in. On some of it, at least. “The ideals they strived for are gone, so is the peace they fought for. The alliance between DDP and DMI is cracking, and the Idealists are getting ready to move in on the Outsiders again. It won’t be long before Manhattan is at war.”

Kat knew she had his attention when he failed to drive through the now open gate. It took almost a minute for him to realise they were open and start forward again. Kat waited patiently for his response.

“If we’re on the brink of war, why are we bothering with the Nomads?” he asked eventually, driving slower than usual as they neared their destination. She was surprised that was all he asked about. Well, almost surprised. There was a reason she was leader and not him.

“Because they have requested an alliance of us. Aside from them being afraid the Idealists will come for them next, we could use their help. War is inevitable, but our survival is not. It is up to us to help those who cannot help themselves, and we cannot do that on our own.” Kat turned to Stefan as they pulled up outside the Nomad’s clubhouse, taking note of the understanding in his eyes. “We will need all the help we can get if we are to see through the promises I made.”

“Henry…” muttered Stefan, finally clueing into why she needed Sam. He sighed and shook his head as she nodded slowly. Without another word she slid from the car, Stefan doing the same and meeting her on the sidewalk. A few Nomad members lingered out front, but none close enough to hear as Stefan leaned in close.

“If it is war, you know I’ll follow you til the end,” he said softly, grasping her arm lightly to stop her moving forward. Kat glanced up at him with a frown, but he didn’t let her go. “But you’re playing a dangerous game, especially getting involved with him. He has spent his entire life fighting us. How do you know he won’t turn on you? How do you know he’ll even believe you?”

“I don’t,” she replied simply and honestly. Stefan looked horrified at her confession, but Kat only shrugged. “Nothing besides death is certain, Stefan. Anything could change at a moment’s notice. All we can do is plan and hope for the best. Things would be a lot easier if Winchester had spoken to his grandchildren once before he died. Either way, I intent to keep the promises I made.”

Gunshots filled the air as Kat pulled her arm from Stefan’s grip. Immediately the Nomads nearby had their own weapons out, as did Stefan, but the fighting they could hear was blocks away. Kat’s jaw tightened as she listened to the shots for a moment. Her eyes narrowed when an explosion went off, shaking the ground beneath their feet as screams rent the air.

“Reach out to the old man,” she stated, watching down the nearest street to Gramercy. “Set that meet I mentioned. The sooner the better, let them pick the place.”

Stefan nodded and moved back to the car as he pulled out his cell. Kat watched the streets for a few moments before she headed past the Nomads, all of which eyed her carefully and stepped aside for her. She sighed as a second explosion shook the ground. Things were moving quicker than she had planned, which meant she had to move quicker, too.

A good plan was like a good play, in her mind. Everyone had to play their parts for it to work properly. If one person deviated from script then the whole thing could fall apart. She needed everyone to play their parts precisely if she was going to succeed. 

Thankfully, she already had a play in place.


	3. Uncle Bobby

“You guys are making too big a deal out of this,” sighed Sam, trying his best to brush off his friends. He’d made it to Midtown with barely a second to spare, the District’s ‘‘guards’’ closing the gates behind him. Both sneered at him through the closed gates before walking off. If he’d tried to make it back to his apartment, he wouldn’t have seen the sun rise again.

Midtown was considered the only safe place after dark in New York these days, and even then safety wasn’t guaranteed. It was considered ‘‘civilian territory’’; the rest of New York belonged to the gangs. Jo had let him stay on the couch for the night, only after he’d been abused by Charlie, Dean, and Cas over the phone for not getting home before curfew. The three of them had been caught in his apartment waiting for him to return.

“Of fucking course we are!” growled Dean, just two steps behind Sam as he made his way through the precinct. Dean had been pissed off enough when Sam hadn’t come home last night, but when he’d let slip they’d had pizza in the Garment District, Sam swore Dean wanted to rip his head off. “You walked into Multitude territory willingly! Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?!”

“Nothing happened, Dean,” mumbled Sam, running his hand down his face before rounding on his brother and two best friends. Cas and Charlie looked just as annoyed as Dean did. “I’m still here, aren’t I? No one even realised I was a cop.” 

Except Kat. He was going to have to talk to Charlie about that. Later though, when Dean wasn’t around and ready to blow his top. Of course, nothing he said now was going to calm Dean down, Sam knew that. But telling him Kat had known about his job would only make him turn on Charlie.

So when he had his coffee in hand, Sam sat and let Dean berate him without a word of complaint. Really, he had a point. Multiple points, actually.

It had been a stupid move on his part to let her take him into the Districts like that. Granted they hadn’t gone far, but still. What if someone had recognised him? He would have been shot on sight, and then they probably would have hurt Kat just for being with him… he didn’t want that. Kat seemed… not innocent as such, but he didn’t think she’d be the type to mess with gangs.

Despite Dean still ranting on about how reckless he’d been, Sam’s mind drifted back to the night before in that Pizzeria. Kat was simply amazing, they’d had so much in common Sam had been left feeling like he’d known her his whole life. She was honest with him, hadn’t held back as far as he could tell. He almost couldn’t wait to see her again.

“…could have gotten yourself – you’re not even listening to me, are you?” he heard Dean ask, and he snapped his eyes back up to his brother. Dean had a murderous look on his face as Sam blinked, trying to recall what he’d said. When he failed and the silence stretched on, Dean snarled and turned on Charlie. “This is your fault!”

“Hey!” snapped Charlie as Dean stormed past her, slamming the door to the lunch room behind him. Cas and Sam sighed, while Charlie huffed angrily and turned on Sam, hands on her hips. “Seriously, Winchester, what the hell? Did you even try and stop her walking into Garment?”

“What do you want from me, Charlie?” he sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. Cas sighed with him, dropping into the seat beside him and resting his head on his arms. “Nothing happened, and I was outta Garment before curfew-”

“That’s not the point, Sam,” mumbled Cas softly, lifting his head to glance at Sam. He gestured off after Dean. “You guys lost your parents to gang violence. Dean has every right to be worried if you’re going to walk through dangerous territory without a second thought. Just because you haven’t had to deal with Multitude yet doesn’t mean someone won’t recognise you.”

Sam and Dean were only kids when their parents had been caught up in the Harlem war. A known white-supremacist gang, at one point Ghost Town had owned everything north of 97th. Mary and John Winchester had been working at the local precinct in Harlem when the Dominicans Don’t Play had attacked. 

The end result saw not only Sam and Dean orphaned, but the entire Harlem precinct eliminated, along with nearly half of the population north of 97th. 

Ghost Town now only controlled a small section of the Upper West-Side, but ever since the war every district north of central park had been deemed uninhabitable. As far as Sam remembered, those districts were the last to be closed off by the council.

“Alright, I get it,” exclaimed Sam, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. There was no point in arguing with them. They were right, of course. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t follow any women into dangerous territory again, alright?”

“We’re not saying don’t go out with Kat again,” added Charlie quickly, taking a few steps forward. Cas sighed and got up, claiming he was going to find Dean. Charlie waited until he left to continue. “Just… if you’re going into the Districts again, maybe… don’t tell Dean.”

“You’re terrible,” he laughed, shaking his head at the redhead. 

“Hey, I go into the Districts sometimes with Jo,” grinned Charlie, moving to sit right beside Sam, a concerned look on her face. “You just gotta be careful about it. You gotta… forget you’re a cop.”

Sam scoffed. He’d been raised by cops. He’d known the truth about this city for as long as he could remember. Before they’d died, he recalled both his mom and dad stressing the importance of their jobs, and of keeping them secret. Anytime they knew someone was coming over, he and Dean would get ‘the speech’. 

‘Don’t tell them we’re cops.’

‘It’s too dangerous, we don’t know who they are affiliated with.’

‘Any one of them could be a gang snitch-’

‘-or even with a gang themselves.’

Yes, he remembered the rules well… as should Charlie.

“So…” prompted Charlie before he could speak, a wicked smile spreading across her lips. Sam rolled his eyes as she grabbed his arm, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come on, Winchester! You haven’t told me anything yet, so spill! How did it go? Will you be seeing her again?”

“Actually, yeah, we are,” he told Charlie, quickly putting his cup down to cover his ears as she screeched excitedly. He laughed as she grabbed his arms and started shaking him lightly. 

“Ahh, I knew it!” she cried in joy, before she slapped Sam’s arm playfully. “Even Jo said you and Kat would get along! Oh you wait until I see her. Come on, Winchester, give me more! I need details!” 

Sam was all too happy to oblige. He’d spent the whole night, and most of the morning thinking about Kat. Mostly about how much he had enjoyed her company… but also about the strange sense of uneasiness he’d had ever since leaving her.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he felt like he should know Katka somehow. Her name had rung warning bells in his head, but for the life of him he couldn’t work out why. It was a unique enough name that he should have recognised it had he met her before. Hell her eyes were so captivating he was sure he’d remember her by them alone. Such a light shade of blue, at times Sam swore they were the same colour as the whites of her eyes. 

“I didn’t know she liked Poe,” she cut in at one point, eyebrows furrowing together. Then she shrugged. “Guess I’m better at this matchmaking stuff than I thought. You’re both nerds!”

“Say’s the woman who can quote Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter word for word,” he replied indignantly, raising his eyebrows at her. Charlie just grinned at him as Sam gestured between them. “Pot, Kettle.”

As he told Charlie all he could remember from his date, he struggled to recall how he knew Kat’s name. There was something there, he knew it. Yet every time he reached for it, it slipped away like sand through his fingers. In the end he dropped it, assuming he’d heard a similar name somewhere and was getting confused. It happened sometimes.

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Charlie,” he sighed eventually. He’d told her all there was to know already, but it seemed that wasn’t enough for her. “I’m going to her place, in Midtown, for dinner tomorrow night and I swear, no districts. Are you happy?”

“Immensely,” she giggled, making Sam roll his eyes once more. He wasn’t completely annoyed, really. He knew for a fact if he told Charlie to drop it, she would without question. She was good at respecting his personal boundaries, but he didn’t have a problem with her questions. 

“What is going on out there?” he asked after another minute, in which more shouts echoed up to them from the precinct. A horrible thought struck him as he remembered his parents, but Charlie spoke before he could let it run away with him.

“Big gang shoot out in the Districts last night,” mumbled Charlie, her mood dropping dramatically as she followed his line of sight. When she turned back to him, her face had hardened. “The Idealists claimed Gramercy for themselves. That’s why we were so worried about you. Dean heard the shooting only blocks away from your apartment and lost it. If you hadn’t of called from mine I’m pretty sure he would have gone out looking for you.”

Sam shivered then, and it had nothing to do with the sudden blast of cold air from the air vents. The Idealists were a lot like Ghost Town, only much, much worse. Ghost Town was considered a white-supremacy group, but they were only racist pigs. They were willing to let the black community live as long as they stayed out of their way. Their rule of Harlem hadn’t been anywhere near as nasty as people had expected. 

The Idealists believed only white people should live on Earth. It was basically their motto.

They were responsible for nearly every POC death in New York. While their territory was restricted, their members were spread far and wide across the city, just like any other gang. Sam was grateful he hadn’t had to deal with them yet. The only person an Idealist hated more than a black man, was a cop. 

And now they owned the district right next to his.

“Maybe Dean’s right,” he mumbled, his excitement over last night’s date quickly fading. The Outsiders had been a relatively small gang, but Gramercy had been a pretty safe place under their rule. Sam wondered how long it would take before The Idealists decided to take Rose Hill and Kips Bay, too. “I think it might be time to move into Midtown.”

“That’d probably make Dean happy,” quipped Charlie with a light laugh, giving Sam a lop-sided smile. The door to the break room opened then, the commotion outside growing louder for a moment as two more officers slipped in. Sam and Charlie smiled politely, which was returned before the others moved to a far corner with their coffees. “Speaking of which… we should probably find him before he breaks something.”

It was easy enough to find Dean. He was up on the roof with Cas, both men sitting on the edge with their legs dangling over the streets below. Sam and Charlie sat with them, with Sam managing to avoid another rant by informing Dean he would start looking for apartments in Midtown that afternoon.

Sam, Dean, Charlie, and Cas had only just gone back down to the precinct when the big head honcho, Anthony McGrath, called him and Dean into his office.

“There a problem, Sir?” asked Dean as soon as Sam shut the door behind him.

“Not exactly, no,” came another voice, and Sam turned to see Bobby Singer standing by the corner of the room. 

“Uncle Bobby!” Sam called happily, quickly striding up to the older man. Bobby smiled and threw his arms around Sam when he reached him. Dean was close behind as Sam pulled away.

“God, it’s been too long,” he laughed, slapping his hand on Bobby’s shoulder affectionately. “Where’ve you been old man? Haven’t seen you in months!”

“You boys might wanna sit down,” said Bobby slowly, sharing a brief glance with Anthony as he did. Sam and Dean shared a quick look before taking seats in front of Anthony’s desk. And then he learned just why his uncle had been absent for the last few months.

“Wait, you’re working with the Idealists?” asked Dean almost angrily. “Did you know about that shootout before it happened?”

“As a matter of fact, I helped plan the damn thing,” grumbled Bobby, looking more annoyed at himself than anything. “And before you start on me, how ‘bout you shut that big mouth of yours and think for five god-damn seconds. I ain’t gonna ruin a two year operation just to save a few gang lives.”

“Civilians died in that fight, too,” growled Dean under his breath. Sam shot him a glare before placing his hand on his knee lightly in a comforting gesture. It didn’t work too well.

“And more woulda died if I hadn’t been there to warn them and get them out,” snapped Bobby before he shook his head. “No, I’m not getting into this with you.” Then he looked back up at Anthony. “I came here to tell you that Clay’s starting to trust me, finally. He’s asked me to join him at some meeting tomorrow with another gang leader.”

“Which one?” asked Anthony quickly, a hint of excitement in his tone. When Bobby answered, even Dean was rendered speechless for a moment. 

“You’re sure that’s who you’re meeting?” pushed Anthony, pulling all sorts of files towards him and reaching for his phone at the same time. “You’re absolutely positive it’s him?”

“Clay seems to think so,” answered Bobby. Sam’s heart was racing in his chest as he glanced at Dean again. “Spoke to him just last night, after the shootout. Said he wants to talk about possibly giving them some of their territory back in exchange for their support.”

“Support for what?” asked Sam as Anthony almost burst with glee. The look on his face told Sam he clearly expected a win from this. 

“Does it matter?” asked Dean, clearly as excited as Anthony. Sam however, didn’t share their views. Something told him this was all about to go horribly wrong. He once again had that strange feeling of uneasiness, the same one he’d gotten in Garment. “We’ve been hunting this guy ever since he took control back in ’49!”

“With everything that’s been happening lately, it matters, Winchester,” said Anthony, but he didn’t sound angry, or even upset with Dean. If anything, he sounded like all his Christmases had just come at once. “But we’ll find out what support they need tomorrow night. Bobby, do you think you could get a wire in?”

“Positive, if we use older technology,” answered Bobby. Sam still felt like something was off. He didn’t say anything, though. “Clay doesn’t scan for anything older than ’34, thinks it’s all obsolete. Don’t you stress about a thing, Tony. By tomorrow night you’ll finally be able to put a face to the name KB.”


	4. Questions

An ominous feeling settled over Sam for the rest of the day. No matter what he did or who he spoke to, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to go down. Dean said he only felt that way because it was Bobby, and he could have been right. Bobby had raised them after their parents had died. 

Something told Sam that wasn’t the case, however.

He had so many questions, and whenever he tried to work out the answers, more questions were raised. Part of him couldn’t stop thinking about what Anthony had said. As far as Sam knew, there hadn’t been anything like the Gramercy shoot out in years. In fact, the last one he could remember was almost seven years ago. Yeah, there were little spats, but most of the time the only deaths were gang members.

And yet, Sam could remember hearing of civilian deaths nearly every week when he was a child. He didn’t know how many nights he had crawled into Dean’s bed, terrified by the gunshots echoing throughout the city. Things had eased for a while after his parents had died, but even then civilians were dying on a regular basis. 

Which got Sam thinking about why. Gangs would always fight, it’s who they were. So why had they seemingly stopped fighting for so many years? What had changed to make them cooperate for as long as they had? What had happened to suddenly put an end to the relative peace they’d experienced since Sam was 20? 

When he failed to find an answer, Sam moved on to other questions.

Like why Multitude was suddenly meeting with the Idealists? Part of being a cop meant he had to keep track of who hated who. Knowing which gangs were likely to fight made things a lot easier. For example, every cop knew that the Dominicans hated Dead Man Incorporated, and vice versa. Before the alliance had been put in place a few months after the Harlem war, they had been at each other’s throats damn near every day. 

Sam also knew that Multitude and the Idealists never got along. One of the last big gang wars before he became a cop had been between those two gangs. Multitude had taken Soho and Tribeca from the Idealists, would have claimed the Financial District, too, had they kept going. And now this KB was claiming they would give Soho and Tribeca back to the Idealists?

Why?

It didn’t make sense, not to Sam. Unless something big was going to go down, there was no way Multitude would just hand back territory. Not when they’d spent so many years claiming it. Especially not when it would cut their territory by half. Even if they kept Soho, giving Tribeca back meant the Idealists would have more territory than them.

The thought that KB was willing to just give back so much territory pissed Sam off badly. How many people had died in the years it took the Multitude to secure those Districts? And they were just going to hand them back like it meant nothing? Even if there wasn’t some ulterior motive for the meeting, the very thought made his blood boil. 

All those lives for nothing.

Of course, when Sam tried to talk to Dean about it, he just shrugged him off.

“You’re thinking too much into this, Sammy,” he said rather cheerfully. The prospect of finally knowing who KB was had sent him into a state of pure excitement, just like most of the higher-ups. But Sam couldn’t help but worry. Nothing about any of this made sense to him.

What made matters worse was that he wasn’t able to talk to Charlie or Cas about it. He knew they would help him work out what he was missing. Unfortunately, he and Dean weren’t even supposed to know. The only reason they did was because someone high up the chain of command had given them clearance. Sam would have liked to have asked Bobby if he knew who and why, but Bobby had left pretty much straight after the meeting with barely a ‘see ya ‘round.’ Tony only said they were requested.

To his delight, he got a brief respite from his thoughts when he received a phone call from a withheld number. Sam eyed his phone with a frown for a moment before answering. Everyone he knew was saved in his phone, so their numbers shouldn’t be blocked like that.

“Hello, Sam Winchester speaking,” he answered curiously, wondering if maybe he’d forgotten to pay a bill or something. 

“Well hi, Sam Winchester speaking,” greeted the voice on the other end, immediately bringing a smile to his lips. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important?”

“Kat, hi,” he greeted a little too eagerly maybe, leaning back in his chair. Charlie glanced up from her desk a few seats away at that. Sam rolled his eyes as she grinned and gave him a double thumbs up. “No, no nothing important. Just… paperwork…”

“Sounds like a blast,” she replied sarcastically. Sam laughed, shrugging his shoulders before remembering she couldn’t actually see him. “Listen, I hope you don’t mind, I got your number off the registry. I wanted to make sure you got home safely last night. When I heard about the shooting in Gramercy-”

“Hey, Kat, I’m fine,” he replied quickly, cutting her off before she got too carried away. “I went to stay with Charlie’s girlfriend in Midtown, I wasn’t anywhere near Gramercy.”

He found it sweet that she called to check up on him. He didn’t say that however, and her worry only reminded him of what was going to happen tomorrow night. Of course, he couldn’t say that, either. Kat was only a civilian, he couldn’t risk telling her anything. Even if she didn’t know anyone in a gang, anything he told her could still put her in danger.

“Oh thank god,” he heard her sigh. Another smile crossed his lips, however it wasn’t as bright as the first. “I wasn’t sure where you lived, and I felt so bad making you stay out so late.”

“Don’t worry about it, really,” he insisted. No point in worrying her over it when nothing had happened. The guards had looked fairly annoyed when he approached, but neither had said a word. “Although, I did cop an earful from my brother for going into Garment. Nothing I can’t handle though.”

“I hope it wasn’t too bad,” she said hesitantly, and he sat forward again as she paused. “Are… are you okay? You sound a bit strained… I hope I didn’t cause too much trouble…”

“Oh, no, just work,” he assured her quickly, bringing his hand up to his forehead. “Bit stressful today that’s all. Listen, about our date tomorrow… I’m afraid I’m gonna have to reschedule.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” replied Kat, sounding more put out than he’d thought she’d be given it was only a second date. Sam sighed as Cas joined Charlie, both of them blowing him kisses when he tried to shoo them away. “I was really hoping to see you…”

“Well, what about tonight?” Sam wasn’t sure why he said that. He spun his chair around so his back was to his friends when they ‘ooed’ like kids. He immediately felt the need to backtrack. “I mean, if you’re not busy-”

“Tonight sounds great,” she interrupted, her tone cheerful and playful once more. “Did you still wanna come around to my place? You remember where it is, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I wrote it down when I got back to Jo’s last night,” replied Sam with a grin, his mood already improving. Just the thought of seeing Kat again had his heart racing. “Your place sounds good. Same time?”

“Make it six-thirty if that’s okay,” Kat answered quickly. “I’ve gotta deal with something this afternoon but I should be done by six at the latest. Gives me time to shower and clean up a bit.” 

After they’d set a time, Sam swung back around to face his desk. It was then he noticed Dean had joined Charlie and Cas, was now watching him with narrowed eyes. Sam rolled his eyes as he picked up a pen and took down Kat’s number. 

“Alright, so I guess I’ll see you tonight,” he said happily as he sat back. Kat laughed just as Dean growled.

“No districts,” he practically snarled, making Sam roll his eyes again as he flipped Dean off. Kat only laughed again, having clearly heard him.

“He knows my apartments in Midtown, right?” she asked playfully, clearly enjoying his brother’s antics. Sam wasn’t, not in the slightest. “Also, it might not mean much, but Garment is actually pretty safe since Multitude took over. Probably one of the safest there is.”

“Yeah, he knows,” grumbled Sam as he shooed them off again. And like before, Cas and Charlie blew kisses while Dean scowled. He didn’t add the part about Garment, though. Kat wouldn’t know as she was just a civilian, but Multitude was the deadliest gang around.

They had only emerged twelve years ago, after taking out the biggest gang at that time, known as People Nation. In less than a week, Multitude had completely wiped People Nation from the map, taking over every piece of their territory in Manhattan. In the years since Multitude had tripled its territory size, taking over large chunks of Queens, Brooklyn, and Staten Island, too. They had killed more gang members than any other on record, had seized more districts than any in the history of the country. 

Civilian deaths weren’t on any record he could check with his level of privilege, but Sam was willing to bet everything he owned they’d be higher, too. Multitude territory was possibly the most dangerous place on Earth. Especially for a cop like him. Sam supposed he could see why Dean was so angry.

He and Kat chatted a bit more before he hung up. He sighed happily as he sat back in his chair, already looking forward to tonight. At least, that was until he turned and saw Dean behind him, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed. Sam sighed and slumped back in his seat, waiting for the inevitable.

“So, you’re seeing this chick again tonight,” he stated coldly, eyes narrowed on Sam. Sam sighed again before he crossed his arms, copying his brother’s stance without actually standing. 

“Yeah, I am, actually,” he replied just as coldly, staring up at Dean and refusing to back down. “I’m going to her place at six-thirty. Probably spend the night if things go well.”

Spending the night hadn’t been discussed with Kat. He hadn’t even considered spending the night with her, he only said it to annoy Dean. He knew it had worked by the way he scrunched up his nose, his top lip pulling up in an almost snarl.

“So it’s serious, then?” he asked gruffly, pushing off the wall to literally stand over Sam. That was when Sam stood, too, easily towering over him. 

“So what if it is?” replied Sam, his voice low and deadly calm. Dean always pulled this kind of crap, no matter who he was dating. Even the boring ones. It annoyed him to no end, the way Dean was so protective. He could understand of course, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. “Kat’s nice, you’d probably like her if you gave her a chance.”

“You barely know this chick, Sammy,” retorted Dean angrily, his arms dropping to his sides. “The only thing I know about her is she took my baby brother into gang territory on your first date! Its my job to take care of you-”

“No, Dean, its not,” interrupted Sam angrily. Dean frowned but said nothing as Sam took a step closer. “I’m twenty-seven years old for christsakes! I can take care of myself, and I don’t need you getting all high and mighty about who I choose to date!”

“Do you two really want to get into family business here?” snapped Cas as Dean opened his mouth to keep arguing. He snapped his mouth shut again as they looked around, realising half the office was secretly watching their argument. With one last huff, Dean stormed out of the office without once glancing back at Sam, Charlie, or Cas. Cas sighed heavily before he went after him, leaving Sam and Charlie behind.

“Don’t worry about him, Sam,” mumbled Charlie as she sat on the edge of Sam’s desk. He sat back in his chair beside her, running his hands down his face before sighing and slumping back. “Seriously, he’ll settle down. You just gotta give him time to get over your little trip yesterday, that’s all.”

“He’s got a point though,” replied Sam quietly, lifting his head to watch her. “All I know about Kat is what she told me yesterday.”

“That’s why you’re dating her, Winchester,” laughed Charlie, playfully slapping Sam’s shoulder. “The whole dating process is about getting to know each other. Besides, Kat’s safe enough. Jo basically grew up with her, she’s known her since they were teenagers.”

“I didn’t know that,” said Sam, tilting his head in shock. Charlie had mentioned she’d known Kat for a few years now, but not that she knew Jo, or that they’d grown up together. 

“Oh, yeah, give Ellen a call if you’re worried,” nodded Charlie as she stood. “She raised her from the age of thirteen. Thinks of Kat as the second daughter she always wanted.”

“Maybe you should tell Dean that,” commented Sam as he turned back to his computer. 

“Don’t worry, I will,” replied Charlie as she moved back to her own desk on the other side of Sam’s. “As soon as he calms down I’ll get him to call Ellen, talk to her. That should ease his apprehension a little.”

Sam sincerely hoped so. He liked Kat, she wasn’t anything like the other people he’d dated in the past. Most of his previous relationships had been with people in office jobs; safe, quiet people. Boring people. Kat worked in some music shop in Midtown, not far from her apartment, and Sam couldn’t ever see her sitting behind a desk. Her attitude was too boisterous, too blunt to survive in an office job long.

He didn’t see Dean again for the rest of the day. Cas came back about fifteen minutes later to tell them he and Dean were heading home as Dean had gotten them the night patrol of Midtown. Sam groaned and dropped his head onto his desk when he heard that.

“Don’t worry, Sam, he doesn’t know where Kat lives,” said Cas in his typical calming tone. “And if by some chance he does find you, I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything.”

“Like that time I had a date with Duncan?” mumbled Sam without lifting his head. When the only thing he heard was Charlie trying not to laugh, he looked up. Castiel’s nose was scrunched up as he watched Sam, but after a moment his face fell and he sighed.

“Dean swore he’d never over-react like that again,” he mumbled, but even Sam heard the doubt in his tone. “Besides, I thought you and Duncan ended on good terms.”

“You’re kidding me?” asked Sam, not really expecting an answer as he glared at Cas, idly rubbing his cheek. “Dean shot him in the damn shoulder! I can still feel where he hit me after the surgery to remove the god-damn bullet!”

“What do you want me to say, Sam?” replied Cas, throwing his hands in the air. “Your brother is a hot-head and he doesn’t listen to me!”

“Yeah, well, just keep him away from 52nd and 2nd, okay?” sighed Sam, running a hand down his face again. Cas nodded before he grabbed his jacket and bid them goodbye. As soon as he was out of sight, Sam smiled lightly, running his hand through his hair.

“Lemme guess, Kat doesn’t live anywhere near 52nd and 2nd, right?” chuckled Charlie from her desk. Sam’s grin widened as he shook his head.

“Wrong side of Midtown.” He didn’t like lying to Cas, but he knew for a fact Dean would do anything to find out where Kat lived. He also knew that, while he wouldn’t let Dean do anything, Cas wouldn’t be able to keep that information to himself. They were about to spend a very boring night on the wrong side of Manhattan, and Sam was more than okay with that.

He wanted his date with Kat to go as smoothly as possible. He had been too tense last time, having been in Garment. The constant threat of being discovered had prevented him from completely relaxing and enjoying her company. He hoped tonight would be different.

At six-thirty that night, Sam found himself walking down the hall to Kat’s apartment. He sighed heavily as he stopped outside her door, quickly brushing any wrinkles from his shirt. He had dressed more casually tonight, opting for a plain black shirt under a red flannel and jeans. After taking a deep breath and willing his hands to stop shaking, Sam reached up and knocked lightly.

“It’s open,” came the quick reply. Sam’s heart began to pound in his chest as he pushed open the door slowly.


	5. Good Times

Katka grinned up at him from her place on the floor, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Sam froze in the doorway as Kat laughed, moving to kneel in her place. She raised her eyebrows at him as she poured him a glass of whiskey. His eyes left her face to travel down her body, and he literally had to force himself to snap his mouth shut.

At first he had assumed she wore nothing but a plain white button up that hung just below the curve of her ass. However when she bent to pour his drink, he noticed the bottom of barely there short shorts beneath the white fabric. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and she wore light makeup with white socks that stopped a little below her knees.

He swallowed audibly as he stepped into the apartment, quickly closing the door behind him.

“Problem, officer?” asked Kat in a teasing tone, leaning back on her heels with her own glass in hand. She had spread a blanket out over the hardwood floors in her living room, sat on top of it with the bottle of whiskey and a basket. Like some kind of weird, indoor picnic. “I’d offer you wine, but I can’t stand the stuff.”

“Me neither,” he replied, still standing by her door as he glanced around her sparse apartment. His eyes lingered on a few photos on the walls, instantly recognising Jo and Ellen in some. He smiled at one of a young Kat and Jo standing before the pond in Central Park, both holding up ice-cream and smiling brightly.

He jumped when he turned and found Kat had silently moved to stand beside him. She just laughed and tugged on his arm, pulling him over to the sheet spread out before her couches. 

“Relax, Sam,” she cooed as she sat, her legs folded beneath her. She smiled up at him as she grabbed her own glass again, cocking one eyebrow as he sat slowly. “Geez, I’m not that scary am I?”

“No, no sorry, just a little nervous” answered Sam quickly, leaving his legs out to the side, one hand braced against the floor to support his weight. Kat smiled at him as she passed him the second glass of whiskey, her eyes twinkling. Sam cleared his throat awkwardly at her intense gaze. “You look really good tonight.”

“Thanks, handsome,” she simpered in return, bringing her glass to her lips slowly. Sam couldn’t help but lick his own lips as he watched hers. He copied her actions to distract himself, delighted to find the whiskey was smooth and tasty. “Gotta admit, I like you more in plaid than white. It’d look better on my floor, though.”

Her comment had Sam snorting his drink back into his glass. She laughed as he wiped his mouth and chin on his sleeve. Despite being embarrassed, Sam couldn’t help but smile back as he watched her throw her head back with her laughter. It was loud and carefree, just like the woman herself seemed to be.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had a woman tell you she wants to get in your pants before,” she quipped after her laughter died out, a suggestive grin on her lips as she winked. 

“Not quite like that, no,” confessed Sam, attempting to keep his tone playful, like hers. It was a lot easier than he’d thought, and he quickly found his shoulders releasing the tension he’d held all day. “Most of my dates in the past have been rather…”

“Prudish?” asked Kat with an evil laugh. Her smile grew when Sam nodded with a laugh of his own. His laughter died out when she put her drink down, taking note of the wicked glint in her eyes. He swallowed audibly as she moved to her hands and knees and began to crawl towards him. He shivered when she reached him, her lips pressed against his ear and her hands braced on his knees.

“I’m far from prudish, handsome,” she purred, her hot breath sending chills down his spine. Bumps prickled his flesh as her teeth scraped along the lobe of his ear. Sam gasped when her hands moved higher, both pressing over the growing bulge in his jeans. He gripped her wrists as she pulled back, an evil grin on her pink, glossy lips.

“G-Good to know,” he stuttered as she sat back on her heels, a lilting laugh bubbling up her throat. Kat smirked while she sipped her whiskey, her icy eyes locked on him. She studied him for a moment over the top of her glass before she tilted her head.

“No need to worry, Sam,” she said softly, all traces of her teasing gone for now. “I won’t jump your bones, I’m not that kinda woman. Of course, if you decided that is something you want, well…”

Sam had to bite back a groan when she sucked her bottom lip through her teeth seductively. She didn’t need to finish her statement, he already knew what she meant. Instead of answering, though, he cleared his throat and used taking a sip of his own drink to buy himself some time. 

“How ‘bout we talk about something else?” suggested Kat when the silence grew. Sam thought that was a good idea, too, although he had no clue what to talk about. Thankfully, Kat did. “Tell me about your family. Are your mom and dad officers like yourself?”

“They were,” he answered, the unexpected mention of his parents creating a slight pain in his chest. It had been years since they’d died, but he still missed them something horrible. Even so, he pushed his pain aside and smiled at Kat. “They never really spoke about their work with me, but I knew it was important.”

“Were?” she questioned gently, placing her glass down on the floor beside her. Sam smiled in an effort to show her he was okay.

“They worked in the Harlem Precinct during the war,” he explained, dropping his eyes to his drink. He swirled the contents idly as he thought back on the last time he’d seen his mom and dad. It was a day he hadn’t thought about it years. “When the war started they moved Dean and I to Midtown with our Uncle. They came to see us the day they died. Only a couple of hours before, actually. No one knows which gang got them, so many died back then…”

“I’m sorry, Sam,” said Kat earnestly after a while, her hand covering his on the floor comfortingly. Sam smiled again as he glanced up, forcing those memories aside for now. They were on a date, he shouldn’t be sulking like this. “They sound like good people.”

“They were,” he replied happily, turning his memories to the good times he had with his parents. “They were amazing, so selfless. When I was a kid they’d take Dean and I down to the homeless shelters every Wednesday and Friday night and we’d help cook for them. Mom always said it was our duty to help those who couldn’t help themselves.”

“Sounds like an amazing woman,” remarked Kat with a knowing glint in her eye, her lips set in a soft smile. “It’s a shame they didn’t survive to see how great their sons turned out.”

“What’s a shame is the gangs that rule this city,” replied Sam, his tone a lot harsher than he’d intended it to be. There was more he wanted to say, but one look at Kat reminded him who he was talking to. He cleared his throat awkwardly at her raised eyebrows. “Sorry, not something we should be talking about. What about your parents? Charlie mentioned you were raised by Ellen.”

He cringed when he realised how callous he sounded in that moment. There was no way for her to know his parents were dead, but something had obviously happened to hers for her to not be with them. He should have thought before he spoke, but before he could apologise, Kat laughed that carefree laugh of hers.

“I came to America when I was twelve,” she answered simply, showing no signs of pain or emotional distress. “Found myself in New York by the time I was thirteen, courtesy of some real nice people. They took me to Ellen, who raised me as her own.”

“How did you survive?” he asked without thinking, an endless list of gang names running through his head. Not many people survived on the streets of New York, especially not back then. He could only imagine how scared she would have been as a child. “Sorry. Where were your parents, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Same as yours,” she shrugged, as if it were nothing to her. “They died just before I came here, along with my brothers.”

“Kat, I’m so sorry,” whispered Sam gently, reaching for her hand. Her smile shifted when he grasped her hand lightly in his own, but he still couldn’t detect any pain or sadness from her. “Really, I mean it. I know how much it hurts to lose family.”

“Don’t be,” she said quickly, reaching for the whiskey and refilling her own glass. “My father was an abusive dick, my brothers were the same. My mother never cared what they did to me as long as she had her fine clothes and gems. The world is a far better place with them gone, trust me.”

Sam didn’t know what to say to that. His heart ached at the picture in his head, an image of Kat’s life before now. She had suffered a lot for her age, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was truly happy now, or was it all an act to keep herself from getting hurt again? His first impression of her was that she was a happy person, if a little intimidating.

By the time she had finished her second drink, Kat seemed to remember the basket beside her. She pulled it out between them with a flourish, her grin contagious as she opened the lid. Inside was packed full of closed containers bearing the logo of the restaurant downstairs. Sam laughed as Kat started pulling them out one by one.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she said in mock indignation, poking at Sam’s shoulder playfully. “I could have cooked for you instead.”

“Why does that send chills down my spine?” he asked teasingly, recalling her saying she was a lousy cook in Garment yesterday. Kat laughed as she pulled the last container out and kicked the basket away.

“Because my cooking would probably put you in hospital,” laughed Kat as she pulled lids off of containers one by one. Sam’s mouth began to water at the delicious smells wafting up to him. He hadn’t eaten properly since yesterday and now his stomach was growling at him. “Just ask Ellen and Jo, they’ll tell you.”

“Oh, my god,” yelled Sam as he began to laugh harder. “You’re the ‘family friend’ who put them in hospital with food-poisoning a few years ago, aren’t you?”

“To be fair, that was Stefan’s meatloaf, not mine,” stated Kat, pointing the plastic fork she’d picked up right at him. “Ellen wouldn’t let me cook after I set her kitchen on fire trying to make Jo a birthday cake when we were sixteen. I still to this day have no idea how I managed that considering the oven wasn’t even on when the fire started.”

The rest of the night passed by without incident. By the time they finished eating Sam was feeling more relaxed than he ever had before on a date. Conversation flowed easily between them, just like it had yesterday. He went easy on the whiskey, not wanting to get totally drunk and do or say something he might regret. Kat didn’t drink much, either, stopping after her fourth glass.

It was nearly two in the morning when Sam finally glanced at the time. Thankfully he didn’t have to go to work early tomorrow; he was supposed to go straight up to Anthony’s office at three tomorrow afternoon. He and Dean would get a thorough debriefing before the meeting between Clay and KB.

“Wow, time got away from us again, didn’t it?” quipped Kat when he pointed out how late it was. By then she was spread out on the sheet on her back, her head in his lap as she grinned up at him. It made Sam happy to know she was comfortable enough around him to be so relaxed. Despite the late hour, she made no effort to move from her place at first.

“Sign of a good time,” replied Sam playfully, leaning back on his hands. Kat laughed and agreed before she rolled, finally letting him move his legs. They’d gone to sleep while she’d lain on him, but he honestly didn’t mind all that much. “I better get going, let you get some sleep.”

“I don’t mind,” she said seriously, sitting on her knees right beside him. Her smile returned as she moved her hand to his thigh. “You won’t make it back to your place now. It’s late, you may as well stay here for the night.”

“Are you sure?” he asked carefully, wondering if it was really wise to spend the night so soon. Yeah he’d told Dean he was going to stay, but he really liked Kat and he didn’t want to ruin anything by moving too quickly, which he told her. On the other hand, she had invited him to stay…

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, Sam,” she replied with a chuckle, her smile telling him she hadn’t been thinking about sex. “You’re too tall to sleep comfortably on my couch, but I don’t mind staying there and letting you have my bed if you’re really worried.”

“I’m not taking your bed from you,” said Sam quickly, eyeing her couches as he did. Only one was big enough to hold him laying down, and even then his legs would be forced to bend or hang off the arm. Kat’s grin grew at his words.

“So… what’s your decision, handsome?” she asked, a slightly teasing note to her voice. Sam watched her closely for a minute, his mind racing as he decided what to do.

This was only their second date, he’d only known her for two days. There was no denying he was attracted to her, both physically and mentally, and she herself had told him she wanted him. His cock was straining against his jeans just thinking about touching her. What was the harm, really? If she wanted him as much as he wanted her…?

He only noticed how close she was once he’d made up his mind. They never made it to her bedroom. A smile tugged at his lips when he saw her eyes dart to his lips and back, her tongue snaking out to wet her bottom lip in the process. She wanted him, it was obvious, and he wanted her, too.

Without a word, Sam lifted his hand to the back of her neck and leaned in slowly. To his delight, Kat responded immediately, a soft smile crossing her lips before she leaned in to meet him halfway. The kiss was hesitant at first, soft and slow as if neither knew exactly how to move forward. But then Kat was moving closer, the kiss deepening as her tongue slipped between his lips to invade his mouth. His hands fell to her hips as she straddled him, her hands pushing him back until he was on the floor.

“You’re safe with me, Sam,” she whispered once she pulled back, one hand pushing the hair from his eyes as she gazed down at him. His fingers dug into her hips as she rocked against him, his breathing hitched like hers. “I want you to know you’ll always be safe with me, no matter what.”

He didn’t know why she’d said that when she did, but he didn’t get the chance to ask as she swooped down to claim his lips again. Within minutes clothes were strewn around her living room as he explored every inch of her, and vice versa.

Kat was incredible. She moved in all the right ways, said exactly the right things at exactly the right moments. And when she came, lips parted, head thrown back in ecstasy, she looked like utter perfection. He couldn’t get enough of her, but even he couldn’t hold back forever. He’d just gotten her through her third of the night when his thrusts faltered and he spilled into the condom she’d produced.

Afterwards they lay in a mess of sweaty limbs, unwilling to separate just yet. Eventually Kat moved away long enough to grab the cushions and blanket off the couch. She smiled softly at him as she threw him a pillow, then curled up beside him again with her head on his chest.

There was no hesitation as he covered their bodies with the blanket. She moved like they’d been together for years, like this was as natural as waking up. Sam couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Her body fit perfectly with his, like they were two pieces of a puzzle made to fit together.

It didn’t take long for Sam to drift off to sleep. He was beyond exhausted, but more than comfortable with Kat in his arms. At first he thought she had already gone to sleep herself, but as he slipped into unconsciousness he became aware of her singing softly under her breath.


	6. The Dangerous Game

It was a good half an hour before she was certain he was asleep. Even then, Kat waited another ten minutes before she moved. She slipped from his grasp as slowly and silently as she could, pausing when he groaned and rolled onto his side. Once positive he wouldn’t wake, she tiptoed to the bathroom and snatched up her robe.

With one last glance at Sam still sleeping on her floor, Katka slipped out of the apartment. Five doors down she stopped again, checking the hallway was clear before she knocked twice. A second later the door opened to reveal her cousin, his face pulled down in annoyance as he took in her state. His eyes lingered on her mussed hair and robe, and annoyance turned to irritation as he stepped back to let her in.

“About time,” mumbled Singer in his rough grumble, pushing himself to his feet when he saw her. The man had aged badly since she had last seen him, with more lines marring his features and more grey streaking his hair. He stood before her with a solemn expression, eyebrows pulled down over bright eyes.

And then his face split into a wide grin as they both laughed.

“God I missed you, Bobby,” she said as he pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug, his laughter rumbling deep in his chest.

“Missed you, too, Princess,” he said with a mock bow as he released her, causing Kat to roll her eyes. “Don’t like leavin’ you alone for so long.”

“You worry too much old man,” teased Kat, linking her arm with Bobby’s as she lead him over to the living space. Stefan followed, and it was only then she realised Benjamin was there, too. He sat quietly in the corner, wouldn’t even look up at Kat when she approached. “Is everything set for tomorrow?”

“Straight down to business, as usual,” grumbled Bobby with a roll of his eyes. Then he pointed right at her and gave her what she knew was meant to be a stern look. Bobby had never been frightening to her, however, no man had since she was twelve. “You need to rest, you’re too much like Henry and it’ll do you no good.”

“Ellen tells me the same,” said Kat keeping her face straight and her tone serious. She tilted her head to the side as Bobby watched her, wondering if he would know the answer… “Do you know why he never visited them?”

She could tell by his expression that he did. While he had been young for most of Samuel’s lead, she knew for a fact Bobby had gotten along well with Henry once he’d taken power. He had become one of Henry’s most trusted advisors, which was one reason she was so keen to keep him around. She trusted his advice, trusted him to help her gain what she sought.

“You know why,” growled Bobby in answer. Stefan looked as if he would dearly like to hit Bobby for his tone, but Kat shook her head subtly as Bobby stared her down. “Samuel was blind. He was a good man, but he was blinded by his goals. Henry saw how dangerous it was long before the Harlem war, and he tried his best to keep his family out of it.”

“His own son died for the business,” countered Kat, allowing her confusion to show on her face and through her tone. “He did a poor job keeping him out-“

“Samuel didn’t agree,” interrupted Bobby, his tone less gruff now. He sighed as he rubbed his head, leaning back in his seat. “Mary wanted to help, and John insisted on going with her. Samuel was even planning on teaching Dean the ways of business before he died. Wanted both boys to be leaders after him. Henry didn’t, he wanted them to have safe, normal lives.”

“So he stayed out of their lives to keep them safe,” mused Kat, nodding to herself in thought.

“He would have kept you out of it, too, but he knew it was no use,” he grunted with a rather amused smile. “He didn’t want any of his family dying for the cause, and after John and Mary he decided that was it. He refused to get involved with Sam or Dean in case it got them killed. And now you’re gonna drag them into the mix anyway.”

“They are already ‘in the mix’,” replied Kat calmly. Bobby frowned but said nothing. Kat clicked her fingers in Benjamin’s direction and waited for him to place a photo-drive in her hand. She kept her eyes on Bobby as she placed the drive on the table and brought up the first picture. “They’ve been found.”

Bobby actually went pale as he looked down at the drive, slowly skipping through to check each and every photo. She could see the panic in his eyes as clear as day when he looked back up.

“Guessing these aren’t your shots?” he asked, a hint of hope in his tone. Kat shook her head slowly.

“These are our shots,” said Benjamin quietly, placing a second drive down on the table. “Abi caught DMI following Dean about six weeks ago. The Harlem Boys were seen outside Sam’s apartment a month ago.”

“Your boys have been found, Bobby,” added Kat solemnly, watching him carefully to ensure he understood the gravity of the situation. “Sam and Dean are no longer safe on their own. I know Henry thought he was protecting them, but he failed. They’re apart of our world whether they know it or not.”

“I have to warn them,” muttered Bobby urgently, already moving to stand and leave the apartment. Kat nodded once, and suddenly Stefan was pushing him back into his seat. “Get yer hands off me, boy!”

“We need do this right or risk it all,” she told him, and thankfully Bobby sighed and shut up. “I’ve spoken to the DDP, and the Harlem Boys. Osmin remembers the Winchesters, and Roger knows he wouldn’t have Harlem without them.”

“So, what, they’re protecting them?” asked Bobby doubtfully. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

“Of course not,” answered Kat. “That is why I am trying to gain Sam’s trust. His brother should be easy after that. It’d be easier for everyone if they trust me rather than having to kidnap them. Once the Idealists are dealt with it will be up to you to convince Sam and Dean they need to come with us.”

“I trust you,” he replied after a while, sitting forward with his elbows braced on his knees. Kat watched as he studied the photos again before he sighed and looked back up. “I don’t understand you half the time, but I trust you to do the right thing. I’m putting my life, and theirs, in your hands.”

“I appreciate your trust, Bobby,” she said honestly, reaching over to lightly grasp his aging hand. “I swear to you that trust is not misplaced. Now I don’t have much time, Sam could wake at any moment.”

“He stayed?” asked Stefan angrily, hands bunching into fists as he leaned forward.

“We’re not in Slovakia anymore, cousin,” growled Kat, her own anger shining through as she turned to him. She loved her cousin dearly, but his attitude recently was pushing her too far. “Sam is a good looking man, and I’m a woman with needs. Needs he fills well.”

“Right, I don’t wanna hear about this,” interrupted Bobby before she could say anything else. Kat smirked as she sat back, Bobby rubbed his eyes wearily, while Stefan and Benjamin shared ominous looks. Thankfully, Stefan didn’t say anything else as she turned her attention back to Bobby. “Everything’s set for tomorrow. Clay’s bringin’ eight with us, will have another twelve staking out the area. The rest are waitin’ at the club house in the Financial District ready to take back Tribeca and Soho as soon as you give the all clear.”

“Good,” nodded Kat, already making plans to compensate for the large number of members he was bringing. She had suspected he would be wary, but his numbers were easily over-come. “What about Tony?”

“Wants me to get a wire in from ’32. Seemed downright ecstatic to be getting a shot of you on camera finally.” Bobby’s nose scrunched up as he leaned forward even more. “Why’re you so keen on letting them know who you are? You won’t be able to hide anywhere once they put your face up on those wanted posters.”

“I won’t need to hide once the war starts,” she answered simply. “Anyone who remembers what happened in Harlem will disappear until its over. As long as I stay in Multitude territory until then I’ll be safe.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Katka,” grumbled Bobby in defeat. He sighed and hung his head, shaking it from side to side.

“Life is a dangerous game, Bobby. I made promises I intend to keep, no matter the cost. If anything happens to me, then it’ll be up to you, Stefan, and Benjamin to make sure my plans are seen through.”

“You have no fear,” muttered Bobby under his breath, but Kat still heard him.

“I lived with fear for the first twelve years of my life,” she said sternly, watching as all three men lifted their gaze to hers. She could see they all felt pity for her, and she ignored it. She didn’t want to be pitied, she wanted them to do what needed to be done. “It’s useless and does nothing to further our plans. What happens will happen. Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Yeah there is,” said Bobby, his tone dropping dangerously low as he watched her. “Tony wants the boys there tomorrow.”

For the first time in quite a few years, Kat actually felt panic well up within her. She hadn’t planned for Sam to find out who she was so quickly. It could ruin everything if he learnt who she was before she gained his trust.

“Milton,” she breathed. It had to be him. There was no other explanation, no one else who would want to ruin this for her. “It has to be him.”

“You said he’d been dealt with,” growled Bobby, once again pushing himself to his feet. This time he shoved Stefan back when he tried to make him sit again. “You lied to me! You left those boys with him all this time!”

“I didn’t know he’d managed to work himself into the Midtown precinct,” countered Kat angrily, holding her hand out to stop Stefan in his tracks. She stood with Bobby, lightly grabbing his hands and softening her tone. “I swear to you, Bobby, I didn’t know. If I had I would have pulled Sam and Dean out years ago.”

“So what do we do?” asked Benjamin beside her, his face showing his obvious panic. “How do we stop them? If Sam or Dean recognise you-”

“There is nothing we can do,” replied Kat with a sigh. Stefan, Benjamin, and Bobby all looked shocked at her words, but it was the truth. “Trying to pull them out now will only raise suspicions. Its too late to change our plan, we’ll just have to make amendments and fix what we can.”

“When Sam finds out who you are,” began Bobby, but he didn’t need to finish.

“I know,” she sighed, already thinking of another plan. “It doesn’t matter. After the Idealists are dealt with you can tell them everything. Both of them. Hopefully there is enough trust left between you for them to accept it without too many questions.”

Kat promised Bobby she’d keep everyone safe before she bid him goodbye. Stefan followed him from the building under orders to ensure Bobby made it back to Clay in one piece. Benjamin disappeared back into his apartment without a word, while Kat went back to Sam.

He was still asleep where she’d left him, and she couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful he looked. Her smile faded quickly however. If she was right then his peace was officially over. As it was for her, and every other citizen currently living in New York.


	7. KB

“Remember to let her under your skin, then you’ll begin to make it better, better, better…”

Sam woke abruptly with a gasp, his heart pounding away in his chest. It took him a moment to work out where he was, a small smile crossing his lips when he remembered. He sat slowly, finding Kat was still fast asleep beside him, curled up on her side beneath the blanket.

The floor had proved uncomfortable for a good night’s sleep, but that wasn’t what woke him. He stretched his muscles out, rubbing the cramp in his lower back as he tried to recall his dream. He’d dreamt about his parents, that much he was certain of. Judging by the way his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest, he guessed it was about the day they died.

“Sam?” came Kat’s rough call a few moments later. He turned to see her rubbing her eyes before she rolled onto her back to face him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asked, keeping the blanket tucked around his waist. It’s not like she hadn’t seen his body last night, but now, in the light of day and without the alcohol buzzing through his system, he was a bit more self-conscious.

“Probably,” answered Kat with a light laugh, turning her head to find her phone. Sam couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. After a moment she sat with a curse, hand to her head as she stared down at the screen.

“Everything okay?” he asked curiously as she threw the blanket back and stood, not bothering to hide her nakedness in the slightest. Sam let his eyes roam down her figure before she turned to him, a sly grin on her lips.

“Having a good look there?” she teased, wiggling her hips as she snatched up her shirt. Sam laughed but didn’t answer as he reached for his own pants. “I’m sorry to be rude but I’m running late.”

“Guess I shouldn’t have kept you up so late last night, huh?” he half-joked as he stood, wondering if her reaction had something to do with her regretting what they’d done. His apprehension must have come through in his tone, because Kat turned to him then with a softer smile.

“Wouldn’t change last night for the world,” she simpered, buttoning her shorts before stepping into his arms. He was still shirtless, but didn’t care much as she leaned up to press her lips to his in a sweet kiss. “I don’t regret having sex with you, Sam. In fact, I’m kind of hoping we can do it again sometime.”

“Really?” he asked, a little surprised by her forwardness. But really, he should be used to it after last night. Kat’s grin grew when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close. “Good, cause I’d like that, too.”

Despite claiming she was running late, Kat told him to make a coffee while she stepped out into the hall to make a phone call. He had just poured the hot water in when she joined him again, her smile back in place. Sam was beginning to wonder if she ever got angry or upset. It seemed to him like she was always smiling, no matter what.

“No milk or sugar,” he said as he handed her a cup, watching her closely again. She smiled as she took the cup, claiming it was just how she liked it, but this time Sam saw through it. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and there was tension in her shoulders. Sam decided after last night it was worth the risk asking what was wrong. “Is everything okay? You seem a bit tense…”

He almost laughed as he recalled her asking him that same question yesterday. Kat gave him a questioning frown before she sighed and put her coffee down on the bench.

“Sorry, just business,” she answered after a moment, her shoulders sagging as she sat at the island counter. “One of my partners broke the rules of our contract, I’m supposed to meet them today to find out what happened.”

“I thought you were just an employee,” commented Sam as she pressed her hands into her cup and sighed again. “Shouldn’t your manager be handling that kind of thing? Or even the store owner?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m doing it,” she quipped, her playful tone back as she winked at him. Sam felt his eyebrows pull up in shock then, which only made her laugh. “The business is mine. Was given to me about seven years back when the owner died.”

Sam almost spat his coffee out at that. It wasn’t unheard of for families to pass businesses down to their children in time, but he’d never heard of anyone just handing it over to a stranger. Not without some kind of payment, anyway.

“He or she must have trusted you to just hand over their business like that.”

“Oh yeah,” replied Kat with a wave of her hand, as if it were nothing. “I actually met him before I met Ellen, he’s the one who got me to New York and convinced her to take me on. He trusted me to take the business where he wanted it to go. Taught me everything I needed to know to survive.”

It wasn’t hard to hear the adoration in her voice. Sam quickly realised while she might not feel anything for her parents deaths, this man’s death still weighed on her heavily. Her bubbly attitude seemed dulled slightly as she stared off into the distance, coffee still in her hands.

“Sounds like a good man,” he mumbled after a moment, grateful to this mystery man who had helped Kat when she needed it most. Kat chuckled under her breath then.

“He was,” she said softly, a warm smile on her lips as she lifted her gaze to meet his. “Henry was the best man I’d ever met.”

“My grandfather’s name was Henry,” he said idly, unsure what else to say. He barely noticed when Kat raised her eyebrows almost hopefully. He was thinking back to the singing he’d heard last night. “Never met him, but dad spoke about him a lot. Hey, were you singing last night?”

“I don’t sing, and believe me when I say you don’t wanna hear me either,” she stated bluntly as her phone began to ring. She huffed as she glanced at the screen, rolling her eyes before she held a finger up to Sam. He tried not to eavesdrop, but it was kind of hard not to with her sitting so close. And Sam learned that Kat could be very intimidating when she put on her ‘business’ voice.

“Is it set? - Then why are you calling me? - And that’s urgent, is it? - Urgent enough to interrupt me while I’m in a very important meeting? - I thought not. - I don’t want excuses, Wake, I want results. - I’ll be there myself in half an hour, so you have twenty minutes to make sure everything is in order. - Twenty minutes.”

Sam actually shivered at her demanding tone as she hung up.

“Important meeting, hey?” he teased, hoping to draw another smile. It worked as she turned to him again, that devious glint in her icy eyes.

“The most important,” she stated, and something about her tone made him think she wasn’t joking. He dismissed the idea as she reached for the collar of his shirt. He let her pull him down for a kiss, before she grinned and pushed him back playfully. “I’m sorry to run like this, but I really gotta deal with them. The whole thing will fall apart without me there to supervise the idiots I have working for me.”

Assuring her it wasn’t a problem, Sam downed the rest of his coffee quickly. Kat snatched up her keys, her phone disappearing into her pocket as he waited in the hall for her. Like she had in Garment, Kat laced her arm through his as they made their way downstairs, actually leaning her head on his arm as they waited for the elevator.

“So, will I see you again?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light as they passed the building doorman.

“Can’t get rid of me, Winchester,” she teased with a light elbow to his ribs. Sam laughed as they stopped outside by her car, people already crowding the streets around them. It was nearly lunch time after all. They’d well and truly over-slept. “You’ve got my number, give me a call tonight after your thing. I have a feeling you’ll wanna talk then.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Sam, that uneasy feeling settling over him again, although he wasn’t sure why. Something about her words put him on edge. She couldn’t possibly know about tonight, could she? Kat simply shrugged like it was nothing.

“Just a hunch,” she smiled, leaning up on her toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. By the time Sam reacted she was already pulling back. “See you ‘round, Sam. Call me.”

**||**

By three o’clock, Sam was being led to one of the conference rooms down from Anthony’s office in the precinct. Dean was right beside him, both brothers silently fuming. As soon as Sam had arrived, Dean had pulled him aside to have another go about Kat.

Of course, their argument had lasted all of two minutes before Cas had pulled them apart. That was when Sam found out Dean hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut about tonight’s events. Cas knew they were about to find out who KB was. It was him who pointed Anthony out to them, standing by the elevators and watching them with raised eyebrows. They hadn’t said a word to each other since. Sam refused to even look at his brother until he calmed down.

At least, that was his plan until they entered the conference room.

Every wall was covered with holographic maps depicting different districts of New York. Most of them were blacked out with the word ‘uninhabitable’ written above them, but each one held at least one blinking dot to indicate a known clubhouse. But it wasn’t the maps on the walls, nor the number of wanted posters pinned haphazardly wherever there was a clear space that caught his attention.

Sam’s eyes were immediately drawn to the large hologram hovering over the table taking up the centre of the room. It was a map of New York, different sections coloured in to show gang territory. The office downstairs had maps of gang territory up for officers to check, but they were nothing like this one.

Nearly every district was red. He heard Dean curse lightly beside him as they studied the map in disbelief. Nearly half of Queens had turned red, along with two thirds of Staten Island. Brooklyn was completely red, leaving Manhattan with the most colour.

“Since when has Multitude had so much territory?” asked Dean idly, eyes wide and lips parted when Sam glanced over at him. “The maps downstairs aren’t as red as this!”

“Multitude’s been growing something fierce,” commented another man as he pushed between them, eyes locked on the screen. Sam watched as he put his phone down on the edge of the table to free his hands. “In the last seven years they’ve claimed more territory than People Nation did in their forty years combined.”

He watched as the man opened a menu on the map, bringing up a smaller map that matched the ones downstairs. Sam’s heart sunk as he took in the differences. If they couldn’t stop this KB soon then before long Multitude would own all of New York. To his disappointment the man then tapped three different districts to change their colour.

Grammercy changed to a light blue, the colour of the Idealists, while both Rose Hill and Kips Bay turned red like the rest. He felt his brother’s eyes on him without even turning to look.

“When did that happen?” asked Dean angrily, pointing to Rose Hill while glaring at Sam.

“Same night as the Gramercy shoot out,” answered the officer without looking, tapping a fourth district in Staten Island and turning it red, too. “Word is KB met with Mike Cooper and convinced him to join his cause. The Nomads are now a subsection of Multitude.”

“If you know all this why haven’t you told the rest of the precinct?” demanded Sam without thinking. He pledged his life to the police force, despite knowing it was the most dangerous job in the world. He and so many others he knew had given everything to this job, and yet their higher ups were keeping vital information from them. “Why haven’t you told the public? They need to know this stuff so they can-”

“Can what, sir?” came another voice, and Sam turned to see one of the big bosses standing right behind him and Dean. Zachariah was the head of the precinct, the one who made all the big decisions when it came to gangs. “Panic? Riot in the streets? Telling the public will only stir up more fear and raise more vigilantes.”

“These gangs are dangerous,” countered Dean, clearly as worked up as Sam was over this. “If you won’t tell the public you should at least be telling officers like us! How are we supposed to protect people if we don’t know what’s going on?”

“Dean!” called Anthony then, rushing forward and pulling both he and Sam back a little. “I’m sorry, Sir-”

“It’s fine, Tony,” said Zachariah before he could come up with some excuse for Dean’s behaviour. Sam elbows him roughly as he glared at their boss. “What’s your name, son?”

“Dean Winchester, sir,” answered Dean swiftly, anger still lacing his tone. Zachariah’s eyebrows shot up then, but he said nothing as he turned to Anthony again. 

“Keep your men in line, Tony. I don’t have time for insolence in my precinct.” He walked away without another word, moving to the head of the table as people began to sit. Anthony urged Sam and Dean into seats by the other end, before he took his half-way up the table.

The briefing went quicker than expected, and Sam had known most of it anyway thanks to Bobby. He spent the next couple of hours chatting quietly with Dean, both complaining about the maps. They both agreed that the public should know the truth, should know how bad the gangs were getting. Neither of them thought it fair to keep information like this secret.

As they waited for Bobby to contact them, Sam noticed Zachariah watching him closely. Whenever their eyes would meet he would glance away, but he was certain he was watching them. He went to say something to Dean about it, but right then the lights dimmed and the hologram before them shifted.

‘…not be late,’ someone was saying off screen. Sam guessed it was Clay, the Idealist leader. ‘You’re sure Stefan said this place?’

‘I’m positive,’ came Bobby’s voice then, coming in loud and clear over the speakers. Sam’s heart began to pound in his chest as the camera turned, showing them six to eight more men around them. ‘They’ll be here, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing.’

‘Says the man who wore his vest,’ sneered a third man off screen. After a second the camera jolted, and the third man cried out in pain while laughter filled the speakers. That laughter died out as a loud bang was heard. Bobby turned, the camera turning with him to see three people walking towards the group.

And Sam swore he stopped breathing as he recognised one of them instantly.

“Stefan thought you’d get me in trouble by trying to arrest people on our date, but I assured him you wouldn’t be that stupid.”

Kat’s words from their first date rang through his head as he finally recalled her cousin’s name. He stood before he realised what he was doing, eyes glued on the figure in the middle as the group drew closer to the screen. He couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. But as the three figures stopped a few feet short of the other group, there was no denying what he could see with his own two eyes.

He finally knew what KB stood for.

Katka Biekral.


	8. Not to Script

“Glad you could meet me, Morrow,” simpered Kat confidently as she came to a stop before the Idealists. As Bobby had warned there were eight other men, not including him or Clay. Kat could only imagine the sight that made for the cops who were watching. Ten men against two and one woman with no weapons?

She could already hear them all arguing as they struggled to understand their biggest target was actually female. If only she were a fly on the wall…

“You’re late,” grumbled Clay, hands in his pockets as he glared at her hatefully. Everyone knew Clay Morrow hated her with a passion; he didn’t believe women were fit to rule. For that alone, Kat was more than looking forward to watching him die.

“Considering the reason for this meeting you would think that would please you,” teased Kat, knowing full well Clay hated it when she beat around the bush like this. “I had some business to take care of, took a little longer than I had planned. I am sorry for keeping you waiting.”

The business had been ensuring those he had surrounding the place had been neutralised. By now her men should be preparing to storm their clubhouse, if they weren’t already. And she couldn’t keep her smile off her face at that thought.

“You said you wanted to discuss giving back our territory,” he grunted, arms folded over his chest now. Some of the men behind him shifted nervously, hands on weapons ready to draw. Kat eyed each of them in turn, locking their faces in her memory.

Every single one of them was as white as white could be.

Her smile grew when she eyed Bobby, making sure to look directly into the camera for the viewers. She knew without a doubt that Milton would be watching closely. A light laugh escaped her lips as she resisted posing, giving the cops a good long look. She wondered what Sam was thinking as she turned back to Morrow.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” she mused playfully, earning small chuckles from both Stefan and Benjamin. Clay’s eyes narrowed on her as Bobby started moving to the side, out of the way. Kat waited until he was behind the group before she continued. “Unfortunately for you… I lied.”

The reaction was instantaneous as she flashed another smirk at Bobby’s camera. Within seconds weapons were drawn as Clay’s face reddened and twisted into an ugly mask. Not that the man had been all that attractive to begin with. Kat waited calmly as she eyed the weapons now pointed at her, Stefan, and Benjamin. Neither of them went for their own.

“What do you mean, you lied?” sneered Clay, his own blaster aimed right for her head. Kat watched him with a blank expression for a moment, waited until he shivered and glanced away from her gaze before answering.

“Stefan, what was the only condition of the treaty we signed with the Idealists seven years ago?” she asked, turning her head towards her cousin but keeping her eyes on Clay. Stefan smirked before he answered with practised precision.

“That there be no open warfare on the streets at any given time,” he stated clearly. Kat had to hold back her laugh as nearly every single one of the men before her paled, including Morrow himself.

“We didn’t attack Multitude,” growled Clay, his tone holding only a hint of fear. “We weren’t even in Multitude territory. The Outsiders-”

“Sorry, Stefan,” cut off Kat, raising her tone above Clay’s and delighting in the way his face turned bright red with his anger. “It seems Morrow here didn’t hear you properly. Perhaps you should allow him the chance to turn up his hearing aid and repeat it for him.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are, little bitch,” snapped Clay then. Before Kat could blink he’d rushed forward, his blaster placed directly between her eyes as he stared down at her. His men grabbed Stefan and Benjamin, forcing both onto their knees as she glared ahead. “I don’t take orders from anyone, especially not a foreign slut like you! Now, this is how this is gonna go. You’re gonna hand every piece of Multitude territory over to me and I might consider letting you go back to your country in one piece. Understand, little girl?”

“I understand perfectly,” she replied, her voice low and deadly calm. It seemed that freaked Clay out more than anything else had so far, and she couldn’t hold her smile back anymore. Clay growled under his breath, his blaster shifting in his hand as he released the safety.

“I don’t think you do,” he hissed, clearly thinking he had the upper hand here. He pushed the blaster into her forehead, forcing her to take a step back or fall. Her jaw clenched unconsciously as he nodded towards his men, one of whom stepped forward and placed his gun to Stefan’s temple. “Make the call. Tell your men they’re now mine or your cousin dies first.”

“Even if you kill me, my people will never follow you,” she replied, her patience wearing out as quickly as her time. She risked another glance at Bobby, silently willing him to hurry up and get out. But the man in question seemed to have frozen by the back doors, his eyes wide and locked on her. With a heavy sigh, Kat decided she couldn’t wait any longer.

She fixed Clay with her most frightening expression, almost ruining it with a laugh as the colour drained from his features. With a surge of confidence, fully aware he could pull the trigger before she got out of the way, Kat lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.

“Freedom is ours,” she called, the business motto. As soon as the words left her lips the front and side doors burst open, allowing her backup to flood the room. Clay turned as his men started to cry out in alarm. Using the distraction to her advantage, Kat wrenched the blaster from his grip, twisting his wrist for good measure. A well-placed open-palmed jab of her hand to his throat sent him down to the ground.

Shots rang out as the Idealists tried to fight their way out, but her numbers were far greater than theirs. Within minutes the commotion around her had died out, all seven of Clay’s men on their knees with their hands on their heads. Morrow himself still lay at her feet, clutching his throat as he struggled to draw breath.

Katka haphazardly tossed the firearm aside after discharging the magazine in his blaster. Stooping down to crouch over Morrow, she smirked. Clay tried to fight her off as she reached for him, but before he could go anywhere she twisted his right arm up behind his back. The crack of his bones was masked by his bellow of pain, a sound that had Kat’s grin back on her lips.

“I told you last time you broke the treaty you would only get one warning,” she told him, holding him so he was on his knees facing his men. She knelt behind him, keeping his now broken arm in place behind his back. With her face right beside his, she glanced up and surveyed the others with a wicked smile. “And now, because of your foolishness, the Idealists are no more.”

“We didn’t fight on Multitude grounds,” whined Clay, his voice low and broken as he sniffled like a child. “None of your people were involved!”

“You still don’t get it, do you,” she taunted, pushing him forward as she let him go and stood. Clay hit the ground hard, a pathetic groan leaving him as he tried to push himself back to his feet. With a quick nod at Benjamin, he stepped forward and kicked Clay right in the guts, sending him back to the floor with another pained groan. Kat turned her attention to the other men, ignoring the thing at her feet.

“The treaty you signed said no open warfare on the streets. That doesn’t just mean Multitude owned streets, that means anywhere in New York. Your boss knows this, I warned him last time he attacked the Outsiders. Lucky for you I’m in a forgiving mood, and even a stupid woman like myself can understand you were only following orders.”

“As of this moment, the Idealists are gone,” called Stefan in a loud, booming voice. He strode up and down the line of men with his hands clasped behind his back, yet none of them were watching him. All eight of the men were staring at her, faces hard but giving nothing away. “Anyone caught trying to reinstate them will be at the mercy of Multitude. You only have two choices ahead of you now. Leave New York forever, or join us.”

“Financial district’s secure,” said one of her men quietly over her shoulder, his cell pressed to his ear. “Cooper’s waiting to move in on East Village whenever you’re ready.”

“Tell him to move in,” she instructed with a nod, keeping her eyes on the men before her. She only glanced down when she noticed Clay trying to crawl towards one of the exits. Two of her men grabbed him and hauled him to his feet before he got too far. “Take this thing back to East Village. The remaining Outsiders are with Cooper and his men, I’m sure they’d love some retribution. He doesn’t die until I can get there, though.”

Clay kicked and screamed like a child having a temper tantrum as he was dragged from the building. His screams still rang in her ears as Ben called to her. A frown pulled down her eyebrows as she turned to find him, spotting him by the back door. Their eyes met briefly before he looked back down, her eyes following his line of sight.

And her heart shattered.

“Bobby!”


	9. Should Have Known

He’d known something was going to go wrong. He’d known it from the moment he’d been told what was happening. Bobby must have known, because it had become clear he had been trying to sneak out by the end.

She’d known, too. She had known Bobby was wearing a wire, Sam was positive. The way she’d looked right into the camera, as if she had known it was there… the whole thing had been planned from start to finish, but not by the cops, or even the Idealists. Katka had lured them into a trap. Sam wondered if she would have let Bobby go if he hadn’t been wearing a wire.

Somehow she had known, and it had cost Bobby dearly.

They had seen him go down. They’d watched, helpless, as gunfire filled the warehouse where the meeting was. Sam’s heart had started racing the moment Katka had revealed she had lied about the reason for meeting with Clay. When he’d noticed Bobby moving away from both groups and towards the back door, he’d held onto the hope he could escape.

He’d thought the worst when he’d heard Bobby groan, blood splattering the camera lens as the ground rushed up to meet it, before it shut off. Dean had started screaming instantly, calling for someone to do something before it was too late. He’d been dragged out of the conference room kicking and screaming at them to save him.

Sam had just been numb. He’d continued to stare at the hologram long after it had switched back to the map of New York while the other officers made plans around him. No one made a move to find Bobby, because no one could get to where the meeting was being held. It wasn’t until his phone had rung that he’d snapped out of it, shaking his head as the first tears began to fall.

He almost didn’t answer it when he saw ‘withheld’ flash across the screen, but he was glad he did in the end. Bobby had been delivered to the Midtown Medical Centre with gunshot wounds to the hip and shoulder. The vest had saved him from being shot in the chest, which had without a doubt saved his life. But it was still touch and go.

No one knew exactly how long Bobby had lain there before someone had found him and gotten him help. He’d lost so much blood the doctors had been convinced he wouldn’t survive long, but survive he did. He had slipped into a coma on the way to the hospital, and the doctors wanted to wait until he was stronger to try and remove the remaining bullet.

Which left Sam and Dean sitting at his bedside, praying to Gods they didn’t believe in. Dean hadn’t spoken a word since Sam had found him and told him, but Sam hadn’t said much, either. What was there to say?

The sun rose again hours later, and still Sam and Dean hadn’t moved from their places. Feeling started to return in the night, but Sam wished it hadn’t. His chest ached as if someone had shot him, too, and his head was throbbing with the beeping of machines. There was a lump forming in his throat which only grew worse every time he looked up at Bobby.

And finally his eyes began to burn as tears pricked the corners, then slowly made their way down his cheeks.

It wasn’t fair. He’d lost his parents to gang violence, grandparents, too. Now he could lose Bobby as well. It just wasn’t fair, and he didn’t even want to think about everything else he’d learnt that night. It hurt too much to think about it.

“I’m going to kill them,” muttered Dean around seven that morning. Sam glanced up at him, shocked, only to find Dean was staring at Bobby with a murderous expression. “I’m going to kill every last one of them.”

“Dean,” started Sam, only to be cut off when Dean actually growled at him.

“No, Sam,” he snapped, finally tearing his gaze off Bobby. His green eyes shone with barely concealed tears, his bottom lip trembling with his words. “These assholes keep coming for my family. They’re not taking anyone else from me. I’m gonna kill every last gang member I can get my hands on, and then I’m gonna find this KB bitch and cut her fucking heart out!”

Sam didn’t say he knew who KB was. Didn’t say he’d slept with her, had defended her against Dean less than 48 hours ago.

It was about nine in the morning when Charlie, Jo, and Cas found them at the hospital. Besides Sam and Dean, Jo had known Bobby the longest. Within seconds of walking through the door she was crying, hands wrapped around one of Bobby’s as she begged him to wake up. But Sam wasn’t paying attention to her now, or even to Bobby or Dean.

Now he had eyes only for Charlie.

“I need to speak to you,” he practically growled as he stormed past her, grabbing her arm and dragging her out of the room with him. She called out in shock at his behaviour but said nothing until he stopped down a mostly empty hall and turned to her.

“What the hell?” she barked, pulling her arm from his grasp and fixing him with a hard glare. “I know you’re upset but that’s no excuse to-”

“Do you know who Kat is?” he demanded, keen to see her reaction. He didn’t want to think badly of Charlie, but she’d told Kat things she shouldn’t have. And if she knew…

“Huh?” Charlie seemed mighty confused as she looked up at him, hands on her hips. Sam ground his teeth together in an effort to remain calm.

“Did you know who Kat was before you set us up?” he grit out, fighting to keep his hands by his side and not grab Charlie.

“Sam, what are you talking about?” she asked, her frown deepening as she grabbed his arms lightly. “Kat’s just Kat! What’s she got to do with Bobby?”

He watched her closely for a moment before conceding she was telling the truth. Charlie had no idea who Kat was, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Jo or Ellen knew. He sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall as his fire died, tears once again pricking the corners of his eyes. That pressure in his chest was back, too, like someone was squeezing his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, closing his eyes as his emotions overwhelmed him. He felt his lips tremble as his throat closed, making it hard to speak. His chest tightened as he struggled to draw breath, the events of the last twelve hours crashing down on him finally.

With a heavy sob Sam slid down the wall to the floor and buried his face in his hands. This was his fault, he should have known who Kat was. Should have turned her in before she could hurt his family, anyone’s family. Another sob forced its way up his throat when he remembered her words before she’d driven off yesterday.

She’d known back then what was going to happen.

“Sam, SAM!” called Charlie urgently, hands on his shoulders as she shook him gently. Sam couldn’t bring himself to answer her right away as sobs racked his body. The concern on her face grew as she turned to call for help, and he knew he had to calm himself down or someone would sedate him.

He wiped at the tears and snot with his sleeve, struggling to control his breathing as two nurses rushed over to help. They both looked to Charlie for explanation, and she told them all about Bobby. One of the nurses nodded solemnly as the other moved to get a sedative.

“I’m fine,” he rasped out as she came back, pushing the needle away. It seemed no one believed him, but he refused to let them inject him with anything. “Really, I’m… I just need some air.”

Charlie walked with him downstairs and out into the sunlight. She didn’t touch him, but he could see her watching him cautiously. Not once did she push him for information, she just followed closely as he made his way over to a bench warming in the sun. Even once they’d taken a seat she didn’t speak, simply waited patiently for him to explain.

“I’m sorry for that,” he sniffed eventually, wiping away a few stray tears that leaked from his eyes. Tears threatened to overwhelm him again, but he took a few deep breaths as Charlie rubbed his back comfortingly. His eyes grazed over their surroundings without really seeing anything. All he could see was Kat’s smirking face.

“It’s okay, Sam,” she insisted gently, offering him a weak, teary smile of her own when he looked up. “Really, I understand you’re upset. Bobby’s an amazing man, I don’t want him to die either. I don’t understand what this has to do with Kat.”

“You ever wonder about her name?” he asked with a humourless laugh, looking away from Charlie and out over the garden before them. People walked past in all directions as they sat there, going to and from the hospital on their daily business. No one paid them any mind; it was common to see people crying at hospitals. “Katka Biekral.”

“Yeah, she’s from Slovakia,” answered Charlie, clearly not getting it. To be fair, he didn’t at first either, and Katka was meant to be her friend. “Sam, I’m not following you here. Just tell-”

“KB,” he interrupted, glancing back up in time to see her frown return. “Leader of Multitude, biggest gang in New York. Her name is KB.”

“I don’t think-” started Charlie, but Sam cut her off again.

“I saw her, Charlie,” he pressed, shaking his head again as he scoffed. “I should have known, it was so obvious. She basically told me who she was. I was too interested in a relationship I couldn’t see what she was waving right in front of me.”

“I’m still not following,” she said slowly, her frown still in place as she leaned forward to look at him properly. “You saw her where? What’s this got to do with Bobby?”

“Last night, when we told you we couldn’t hang out because of work stuff?” he started, raising his eyebrows when she nodded to show she knew what he meant. “We were invited to watch a live-stream of a gang meeting between the Idealists and Multitude. Clay met with KB… and it was her, Charlie. It was Kat.”

“I don’t believe it,” stated Charlie in disbelief. Sam turned to her again, shock forcing his lips to part, but Charlie held her hands up before he could say anything. “I believe you. I trust you’re telling me what you think is the truth, but Sam… Jo’s known Kat for years, Ellen raised her. They would have known if she was secretly the leader of the biggest gang in the country.”

“She knew I was a cop,” he told her, watching her from the corner of his eye for a reaction. As he’d expected her mouth fell open and she gasped, shaking her head as if in denial. “Very first day she knew. Told me you’d told her.”

“I didn’t!” she cried indignantly, earning a few annoyed glances from passers-by. She glanced around before she spoke again, her voice lower this time. “Kat doesn’t even know I’m a cop! I asked Jo to keep it quiet even from her mom!”

“Yet she knew,” said Sam softly, once again shaking his head before dropping it to his hands. He should have known! “She knew about all of us, Charlie. She called us brave for fuck sakes.”

“Sam,” called Charlie suddenly, her hand landing on Sam’s arm and squeezing tightly. “How did she know? Your job isn’t on your record for security reasons, there’s no way she could find out unless she’s been watching you.”

A chill ran down his spine when he realised she was right. For safety reasons there is no indication on any record that someone is an officer. There’s no registry for cops, nowhere that held both his name and his job. There was nothing Katka could hack to find out where he worked, and if she did it would say he was an admin worker for a major office supply company.

“If she’s had me followed then no one’s safe,” he said softly, keeping the panic he felt from his face as he casually glanced around them. He actually forced a smile onto his face when Charlie met his eyes. “They could be watching right now. If she has been following me, then she knows where everyone lives.”

“I don’t understand,” muttered Charlie, a hint of panic in her tone as she copied Sam’s expression. “Why you? What does she gain from having you followed?”

“Probably because you set us up on a blind date,” said Sam gently, still subtly checking the people around them. Charlie immediately looked put out by his idea, but he assured her it was ok before she could say anything. “I don’t blame you, Charlie. You had no way to know, this isn’t on you.”

“But it is on me,” she said sadly, idly chewing her bottom lip. “I’ve known her for years, I should have figured it out before now. Oh my god, you’re right. It was so obvious!”

“Don’t beat yourself up about this,” he tried, but Charlie shook her head.

“I knew, Sam,” she insisted, a stray tear running down her cheek. “At least, I suspected something was up with her. She was always running out at the weirdest times, making strange and private phone calls. Oh god, she knew about Garment falling before we did! I should have known, Sam, I should have realised!”

It took him a good five minutes to calm Charlie down, and then he figured he’d better not tell her about the three men he had noticed. Most people rushed past with barely a second glance at them, yet those three seemed completely uninterested in anything but them. Sam kept that to himself as he offered to go back inside, an offer Charlie accepted gladly.

Ellen had arrived by the time they got back to Bobby’s room. She sat on the other side of his bed, his free hand clasped tightly in hers and her face pressed against the mattress by his legs. Sam knew by the shake in her shoulders that she was silently crying. He let Charlie move to Jo’s side as he motioned for Dean to come talk.

“What’s going on, Sam?” Dean growled the second they were alone in the hall. If it weren’t for the seriousness of the situation Sam would have chuckled at how easily his brother could read him. Right now it wasn’t going to help his case.

“We have a problem.” As quickly as he could Sam explained about the men he’d seen downstairs. When Dean growled and went to go after them, Sam pulled him back and pushed him into a supply closet. “Dean, stop! If there are three there’s probably more, and you’re of no use to Bobby if you’re dead!”

“You think they’re here to finish the job?” questioned Dean with a huff, pushing Sam’s hands off him.

“Why else would they be here?” he retorted, unwilling to say they were most likely there for him. There was no way Dean would let him go if he thought he was in danger. “You and Cas need to keep an eye out, keep him safe.”

“Where are you going?” The suspicion in Dean’s tone was unmistakable, and Sam fought the urge to roll his eyes. Given the fact he was actually lying to him, Dean had every right to be suspicious.

“Just gonna head home and pack some things, clothes and what not. I’m gonna stay with you and Cas until Bobby wakes up, if that’s ok?”

Thankfully, Dean bought his lie without any further questions. It seemed the idea of having Sam close where he could watch him, too, was enough to put Dean’s mind at ease. He hated having to lie to him, but there was no other option just yet. He wasn’t ready to tell him the truth.

As soon as Dean had disappeared back into Bobby’s room, Sam pulled his phone out and made his way to the elevator. His phone rang twice before she answered, her voice telling him she knew he knew. Sam fought to keep his emotions in check, taking a deep, calming breath before he spoke.

“We need to talk. Now.”


	10. Revelations

“You shouldn’t have come,” muttered Sam softly as he tucked his gun into the back of his jeans. He sighed as he straightened and glanced over at Charlie. She stood with her arms folded over her chest, a look of pure determination on her face. Even Sam knew better than to argue with that look, but the situation compelled him to try.

“Either I come with you or I call Dean and tell him the truth about where you are tonight,” challenged Charlie, unfolding her arms to place her hands on her hips. With one eyebrow cocked she fixed Sam with a look that clearly said ‘so, what you got now?’ He knew he wouldn’t win, but he had to keep trying anyway.

“This could be dangerous, Charlie,” he pushed, earning an eye roll from the redhead.

“Life’s dangerous, Sam,” she retorted using the same tone he had. Sam sighed in exasperation as he ran a hand through his hair.

“And if she decides to kill us on the spot?”

“Then we die together.”

Sam shook his head one final time before he gave up. Nothing he said would change her mind, he’d already known that as soon as she’d said she was coming with him.

“Fine,” he sighed, gesturing in an ‘after you’ motion. “Let’s get this over with.”

Charlie nodded as she passed Sam to stand out in the hall. He’d moved anything he could carry over to Dean and Cas’s place in Midtown earlier in the day, just as he’d said to Dean. But Katka hadn’t been willing to meet him during the day.

He didn’t like it, but he could understand her sudden need for caution. The council had put her face on every news station and every billboard in Midtown as a person of interest. While they hadn’t told anyone who she was, they had claimed she could be dangerous.

Which meant if Sam really wanted to see her… he had to break curfew.

He’d told Dean he was going back to the apartment for a quick shower and a sleep. Since Dean was convinced people would come to finish Bobby off, he, Cas, and a few of their closest officer friends were sticking around the hospital, just in case. Which meant Sam wouldn’t be caught.

Katka claimed to have granted them safe passage through to Chelsea, where the original clubhouse was. Of course, Sam didn’t miss the fact that she had promised safe passage to the clubhouse, yet hadn’t said a word about getting home. He’d said as much to Charlie, and she still refused to let him go alone.

“I don’t like this,” muttered Sam as they neared gate five, down into Murray Hill. “There’s no guarantee we’ll get through the gates.”

“So go home,” growled Charlie, her voice shaking slightly. A quick glance down and Sam realised she had gone extremely pale, yet showed no signs of wanting to back down. When she looked up to meet Sam’s gaze, he saw determination blazing behind her eyes. “I want answers. I want to know what her game is.”

Sam really began to worry it was all a set up when the guards at the gate stopped them for a search. He should have realised they would search him, ensure he had no weapons on him. Thankfully a voice cut through the air before they found his gun.

“No searches, she’s expecting them.”

Sam glanced up to see one of the men from the meeting stepping out of a shiny silver sedan. Six motorbikes were stationed around the sedan, two in front, two to the side, and two behind, each with a leather clad rider still sitting astride them. Sam’s heart began to pound when he noticed each one carried blasters, including the four gate guards.

“Sam, Charlie,” greeted the man from the car, as if he had known them his whole life. To Sam’s shock, Charlie greeted him in return.

“Ben,” she nodded coolly, her jaw clenched tight as she stepped closer to Sam. “Should have known you were involved, too.”

The corner of Ben’s mouth twitched up as he glanced at Charlie, before he turned his gaze back to Sam. “She’s waiting for you. Come on.”

He tried to calm his racing heart as he and Charlie slipped into the backseat of the sedan. Ben slipped into the front seat where he whispered something to the driver before they started off. The bikes followed closely, caging the sedan in as if they were expecting an attack at any moment.

“What’s with the entourage?” Sam asked, surprised at how strong his voice sounded. Ben turned in the front seat to eye them carefully before he answered.

“Precious cargo,” was all he said, only raising Sam’s confusion. He shared a glance with Charlie, wondering if bringing her along had been his saving grace. Maybe Kat actually did see Charlie as a friend, despite her being a cop. They’d known each other for years. Perhaps she was the only reason Sam wasn’t already dead.

It was surprising to see the streets weren’t empty like usual for this time of night. While curfew didn’t apply to gang members, it was still unusual to see them out and about once like this. Now Sam could see people on every corner, every single one of them armed to the teeth. He shivered at the amount of guns and blasters he saw, and a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if any were meant to take out the car…

Five minutes later they were pulling up outside the Multitude clubhouse. As he stepped out of the car he glanced up at the building, taking in the faded paint exterior. At only twenty stories tall, the Multitude clubhouse was one of the smallest buildings in the Chelsea district. It had originally belonged to People Nation, before Multitude had taken them out. He could still see the big yellow P sticking out from behind the Multitude logo.

More armed guards stood watch outside, practically ringing the building from what Sam could see. He swallowed audibly as he slipped from the car, sliding his hand into Charlie’s as she joined him on the sidewalk. She pressed herself into Sam’s side as they eyed the guards.

Ben led them up the steps to the frosted glass front doors. Sam kept glancing behind them until they were inside, taking note of how the guards had moved to block the staircase again. But none of them were looking at him, they were all looking out. He ignored it in favour of more pressing matters.

Once inside, Sam found himself standing in some kind of lobby. He barely had time to take in the grandeur around him before Charlie tugged on his sleeve. Ben stood by one of the many doors leading off the main entrance, his eyebrows raised and a slightly annoyed look on his face. He had one hand braced on the door handle, and as they approached his expression grew less friendly.

“Just keep in mind who’s keeping you safe here,” he growled as he pushed open the door, his eyes locked on Sam. Without another word he nodded inside, then straightened and folded his hands before him. Sam glanced down at Charlie, taking note of the sweat on her forehead. He squeezed her hand reassuringly before stepping into the room.

The room inside was rather small, the walls bare. Three black sofas sat in the centre of the room facing each other, with a large coffee table between them. The floor was made from the same smoky grey marble in the lobby, but covered with a plush red carpet that didn’t quite reach the edges of the room.

Sam’s anger rose as soon as he saw her, sitting on the furthest sofa with her legs crossed. She leaned back casually, her hands resting in her lap as she watched them with a blank expression. No one said a word as the door was snapped shut behind them, making both Sam and Charlie jump slightly. It was Katka who broke the silence first.

“You’re allowed to sit.” Charlie moved first, walking straight up to the closest sofa and sitting quickly. She turned back to Sam when he didn’t move, then tapped the spot beside her gently. Eventually he went to sit beside her, but he kept his gaze on Katka the entire time. A tiny smile tugged at her lips when he sat, which only angered him further. “I have to admit, I’m surprised you agreed to meet me here given what you’ve learnt.”

“Would you have met me anywhere else?” he asked carefully, not bothering to hide his anger. Charlie placed her hand on his knee and squeezed lightly, offering Sam little comfort. He ignored her as he continued to stare Katka down.

“No, I wouldn’t,” she answered honestly, surprising Sam a little. Kat shifted and leaned forward, reaching for the glasses and jug on the table between them. “I could tell from your tone that you hadn’t thought this through properly. You’ll forgive me for being wary, of course. I don’t trust you to not shoot me, after all.”

“Should have had your guards check us before letting us in, then,” he replied, using the same deadly quiet tone as her. Her ice-coloured eyes followed his hand as he sat forward just enough to free his gun. A flash of fear crossed her face then, but it was gone as quick as it had come. Keeping his eyes locked on her, Sam placed the gun on the table gently, facing her and still within reach should he need it.

“Shoot me, and I can guarantee you will not make it out of this room alive,” was all she said.

“Why are there three glasses?” asked Charlie then. Sam glanced at her in shock; that was the last thing he would have thought to ask. But as he glanced back to the table he realised it was a valid question; she didn’t know Charlie was coming with him. Even Ben had seemed surprised to see her there.

“Gate five called ahead,” she said simply, filling all three glasses with amber liquid from the jug. Of course it was that simple. “Did you really think I would agree to meet you without knowing what I’m dealing with?”

Sam watched as she lifted a glass to her lips and took a nice, long sip. The fact that she didn’t seem at all worried they were there was really starting to bug him. Neither he nor Charlie touched their glasses.

“You knew I was coming before I called,” he stated suspiciously, narrowing his eyes on her as she lowered her drink. She smacked her red-painted lips together before placing her glass delicately on the table. “How? How did you know I’d found you out?”

“I know a lot of things I’m not supposed to know,” she replied casually, as if they were talking about Sunday night dinner. “I’m afraid you have severely underestimated my reach, friends.”

“We’re not friends,” growled Charlie then, her tone almost matching Sam’s. He felt her shift closer on the couch as Katka turned her gaze to her instead. She cocked one eyebrow as her head tilted to the left.

“No?” inquired Katka in an almost playful tone, raising Sam’s anger to boiling point. “Pity. I’ve always included you in my closest friends, Charlie. I’m sorry to learn you don’t see me in the same light.”

“Friends have trust,” countered Charlie quickly. “How can I trust you when you’ve lied to me for years? Jo and Ellen think of you as family. How could you lie to us all like that?”

“I lie to everyone, Sweetheart, I have to if I want to stay alive,” simpered Katka as she leaned back, completely at ease. Sam actually shivered when she fixed Charlie with a hard look. “But don’t for one minute think your beloved and her mother are as innocent as they act.”

Sam’s heart sunk as he understood the meaning behind her words. He glanced down at Charlie to see her shaking her head in denial. Tears made her eyes sparkle in the dim lighting, and he was wrapping his arm around her without even realising it.

“You’re lying,” she whispered, but even Sam could tell she didn’t believe her own words. “Jo wouldn’t… she wouldn’t lie to me.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” said Kat after a moment, and to Sam’s surprise she actually sounded like she meant it. When he glanced up he saw her watching Charlie with a sad expression, as if it actually pained her to reveal this information. “Jo said the exact same thing when we discovered you were a cop. She loves you, and I hope you can understand why she kept this from you.”

“Don’t,” scoffed Charlie through her tears, shooting Kat a hard glare. “Just… don’t. It was all a lie, wasn’t it? I was just some… some commodity to you. Someone you had to keep an eye on in case we discovered who you were.”

“Jo loves you,” repeated Katka forcefully, leaning forward once more. “When we learned you were a cop she begged us to leave you be. My people wanted to take you down before you found out who she was, who we were, but Jo wouldn’t let them. She almost killed Benjamin to keep you safe.”

“Why should we believe you?” snapped Sam as Charlie dissolved into tears in his arms. He knew it had been a mistake to bring her along. “Why should we believe anything you say?”

“You don’t have to believe me, Sam,” Kat answered with a shrug, as if it meant nothing. But she had slipped up. She wouldn’t have agreed to meet him if she didn’t care what he thought. “But it is the truth. Aside from the obvious exceptions about my position here at Multitude I have always been honest with you. You can ask Bobby yourself when he wakes.”

The mention of Bobby’s name had his anger rearing its ugly head within him.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, keeping one arm around Charlie as he placed his right hand on his knee. He had no doubt he could reach his gun quicker than she could if it came to it. “You tried to kill him. What could he possibly say to make me believe you?”

“He would tell you to trust me as he does,” she stated flatly, her blank gaze locked on him once again. “Who do you think got him to Midtown? The Medical Centre in Greenwich was much closer, however I knew there is no way you and Dean could make it to Greenwich during curfew. Without me, Bobby would have bled to death in Soho where no one would find him for months.”

“Why would you do that?” questioned Sam carefully, trying to wrap his head around everything he’d been told. His mind was racing with the new information, struggling to find a reason for her to lie. “Why would you care if Bobby lived, or even if Dean and I could see him?”

“Because he is family,” she replied just as carefully it seemed. Sam couldn’t understand what she was trying to prove. “Whether you believe me or not, Bobby was not meant to get hurt. I gave him as much time as I could to escape.”

“But why?” pushed Sam, letting Charlie go as he leaned forward, forgetting for the moment where he actually was. “Why would you care? He’s a cop, he was working for-”

“Me,” interrupted Kat with a tone of finality. “Bobby Singer was working for me. I’ve known him as long as I’ve known Ellen or Jo. We worked together before I was put in charge and became his boss. Remember how I told you I took over the business from a man named Henry?”

Sam nodded, but didn’t speak. He was finding it hard to breathe as he mulled over what she said.

“I wasn’t lying to you. The business I took over was Multitude. It was given to me to care for nearly seven years ago now… by your grandfather, Henry Winchester.”


	11. Precious Cargo

“I don’t believe you,” growled Sam, unwilling to accept what she was telling him. There was no way it could be true. She was trying to trick him for some twisted reason. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie to you?” questioned Katka, as if she expected him to just trust her.

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because it’s what you do?” Sam snapped, unable to control his anger any longer. He didn’t know what her game was, but he wasn’t going to sit around and listen to her lie about his family. He’d never met his father’s father, but he knew he was a good man. His dad had spoken about him often…

With one last glare at Katka, Sam stood and grabbed Charlie’s arm. “We’re leaving.”

“You have seen photos of your grandfather, I hope,” said Katka as he turned to leave. He only stopped because Charlie made him, and when he turned back he saw Kat leaning forward to place a photo-drive on the table. Sam turned back properly, but didn’t look down at the hologram that appeared as she slid the device across the table to him. “Is this enough to prove I at least knew the man?”

With his jaw clenched, Sam stared into her chilling eyes for a moment before glancing down. He didn’t want to believe anything she said, but he couldn’t deny what he saw.

How many times had he gone through his parent’s photo-drives when he was younger? Especially after they died. As much as he hated to admit it, that was his grandfather standing there, a huge smile on his face and his arm wrapped firmly around a young Katka’s shoulders.

“That photo was taken twelve years ago, on the day I officially joined Multitude under your grandfather,” she explained as he slowly picked up the photo-drive, eyes locked on his grandfather’s face. “You can keep the drive for a while. It was his before it was mine, there are photos on there you might want to keep. All I ask is that you take care of it. They are all I have left of him.”

Sam stared at the hologram for a few more minutes before he turned it off. Jaw set, he dropped the drive back onto the table and snatched up his gun. Kat’s eyes followed his movements, but she made no move to call for help or to stop him. She was lying. Sam couldn’t bring himself to accept what she tried to sell as truth.

“Come on, Charlie,” he growled, putting his arm around her back and pushing her ahead of him. “This was a waste of time.”

“Are the photos not enough for you?” asked Katka, a hint of worry lacing her tone. Sam didn’t even bother looking back at her.

“Photos can be faked.” There was no point in asking the questions he wanted to ask if she was just going to lie to him. Charlie didn’t say a word as he stormed back through the lobby, forgetting to put his gun away. One of the others who had followed them inside saw it and went to draw his own.

“Stop!” called Kat behind him as Sam raised his gun, keeping Charlie behind him with one arm. The other lowered his weapon uncertainly, and Sam used the momentary distraction to race for the doors. He heard Kat shout something else behind him, but didn’t stop to find out what it was as he and Charlie burst through the front doors.

She lied. It’s a lie. A trick, that’s all.

“Don’t shoot!” called Ben’s voice as the guards outside all turned. Sam was forced to stop as they moved to block his path, over a dozen weapons all now aimed for him and Charlie. He turned back and saw more men rushing down the steps towards them with more weapons, even more closing in from the south. Realising his mistake, Sam only saw one other way out of this mess.

“Get in,” he snapped at Charlie, pushing her towards the silver sedan. Charlie didn’t waste any time, and within seconds she was jumping in the passenger seat as Sam dragged the driver out of his seat.

“Stop!” he heard Kat call as he gunned the engine and took off, his door still partially open. People dived out of the way just in time as he sped down the street and away from the clubhouse as quick as the sedan would allow. Somehow they managed to take the first left before anyone started shooting at them. Only once he couldn’t see anyone following did he slow enough to slam his door shut properly.

“Sam, where are we going?” asked Charlie as he took another sharp corner, turning back to Midtown. Just like on the way to meet Kat there were people all over the place, all bearing weapons of some kind. But he didn’t slow as they jumped from his path, narrowly missing a few. “Sam!”

He didn’t answer her. He didn’t have an answer, at least, not one she would like. Multitude owned everything south of Midtown, there wasn’t anywhere safe for them to go. Even if there was, it’s not like the guards at the gate would just let them pass. Katka had probably already called ahead to close them all off.

“Sam, what’s the plan?” cried Charlie, the panic clear in her tone as the car jolted slightly. Someone had fired at them, and it was only a matter of time before more joined in. Seconds after her cry the car shuddered again, on her side this time. The third impact sent the back end sliding out, almost forcing them into the side of a building.

Instead, Sam somehow managed to swing it around enough to squeeze down a narrow alley that was, thankfully, mostly empty. Empty boxes flew up into the windscreen, causing Sam to miss the next intersection. The car went airborne for a few seconds as they rushed out of the alley, only to drive straight down another.

“What are you doing?” screamed Charlie hysterically, her arms spread out to brace herself against the passenger side window and the centre console. Sam’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he continued to ignore her, putting all his concentration in not getting them killed.

This time he had slowed enough and was able to see when the next street came up. As soon as he was clear of the alley way he put his foot down. No one else shot at them as they passed by, and for a moment Sam thought they might be in the clear for now. The further from the clubhouse they got the less people there were, and if they could find somewhere quiet to park and hide they may just survive the night.

Unfortunately as Sam took the next left to head back to Midtown, six bikes appeared out of a side street and pulled in behind him.

“Shit,” he cursed as they sped up to cage him in. Charlie whimpered lightly beside him as two of the bikes pulled in front and slowed down. Sam was forced to slow down himself or hit them. No matter how angry he was, he couldn’t bring himself to run them down like that. His fingers twitched as he considered reaching for his gun.

Like on their trip into Chelsea, two bikes stayed to either side of them, while the last two slowed down to slip in behind. The two in front slowed until they were driving at legal speeds. To Sam’s utter shock they didn’t try and stop him, nor did they draw any weapons.

At first he thought they might try and escort him back to the clubhouse. He was shocked even further when they failed to turn back, instead continuing on his original path back to Midtown.

“What are they doing?” asked Charlie cautiously, her head darting back and forth between the bikes like she was watching a tennis match. Sam tried to slow his breathing as he glanced out the window beside him. The rider on his side didn’t even acknowledge him.

“Precious cargo,” he whispered, turning back to watch the road. He forced his jaw to unclench as he glanced quickly at Charlie to see if she was listening. “Maybe Kat really does see you as a friend.”

“I don’t think it’s me they’re protecting,” replied Charlie, her voice barely above a whisper. He could see her watching him from the corner of his eye, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat. He didn’t say anything else, and neither did Charlie.

It’s a lie. That’s all, a damned lie.

He unconsciously clenched his jaw again as gate five came into view ahead. His heart resumed trying to beat its way out of his chest as they slowed to a stop. Glancing over at Charlie, he reached down and took her hand in his as they waited.

The guards walked up to talk to the riders, frowns on their faces whenever they glanced up at the car. Sam held his breath as one of them straightened, his hard glare illuminated by the headlights of the sedan. A few agonising seconds passed before the guard stepped back with a nod. Seconds later the gates began to open and Sam released his breath in a heavy sigh of relief.

The bikes in front started forward slowly, allowing Sam to follow them through. Charlie kept hold of his hand until they were through the gates. Sam pulled over on the side of the road as the bikes turned and disappeared back into Garment, gate five closing behind them. No one came over to talk to them, no one appeared to be following them. It looked like they had gotten away…

Or, rather, had been let go.

Both of them jumped violently when a voice filled the car.

“You’re just as stubborn as they warned me you’d be.” Panicked, Sam glanced in the back seat until he realised her voice was coming through the cars speakers. “I never believed anyone could be as stubborn as your grandfather was, but here you are.”

“Just leave us alone!” he yelled at the dash, before Charlie grabbed his hand again.

“I don’t think she can hear you,” she whispered. And she was right; Kat was still speaking as if she couldn’t hear them at all. He quickly realised whatever connection she had was one-way.

“I hope you leave the car somewhere I can find it tomorrow. You were free to leave at any time, you didn’t have to steal it. Lucky for you I convinced Ethan you wouldn’t damage it. You might not believe me now, but everything I told you tonight is the truth. Your grandfather was a gangster, you may as well accept it. And he isn’t the only one of your family who was.

“The world they tried to keep you from has caught up to you, and whether you like it or not there is no running away from it. One day you might work it out for yourself, but I can’t wait forever for you to see reason, Sam Winchester. Watch your back.”

The only sound once her voice disappeared was their laboured and harsh breaths. His mind was running wild, unable to accept anything he’d learnt. He didn’t want to accept it. She was only lying, trying to trick him for whatever reason.

Before he could stop it, Sam burst out laughing. Charlie glanced at him with a mask of shock until she noticed the tears.

He didn’t laugh because he was happy.

Everything he’d been holding back since getting in this damned car in the first place came pouring out of him in one hit. As soon as Charlie realised he was having a minor breakdown she unbuckled her seatbelt and moved to sit on the centre console. Sam let her pull him into her chest as she wrapped her arms awkwardly around his large frame, her head dropping down on his shoulder.

“It’s ok, Sam,” she whispered gently, hands rubbing up and down his back lightly. “We got away. We can deal with her threats later, but for now we’re safe.”

But that was it. Were they safe? Katka knew everything about them, there was nowhere to hide. Part of him wished he had kept his cool long enough to actually get some answers out of her. He hadn’t learnt anything aside from she was a good liar. He had almost believed her for a minute.

Bringing his family into it had been one step too far. Sam didn’t know what she hoped to gain from the lie, but that’s what it had to be. It had to be.

Sam didn’t know if he truly believed that, or if he was just trying to convince himself…

It had been a long, tiring, stressful few days, and Sam wanted nothing more than to collapse in his own bed for a change. Unfortunately his bed was now in the heart of Multitude territory. The couch at Dean’s pulled out, but did nothing for comfort.

Somehow he managed to pull himself together long enough to take Charlie back to her place. No words were spoken as he waited for her to buckle her seatbelt, neither of them caring if they were caught by this point. Curfew was the last thing on their minds as Sam stupidly pulled up outside of her apartment building, frowning when she failed to get out of the car.

“I can’t deal with her tonight, Sam,” she mumbled, making Sam mentally slap himself. He remembered what Kat had said about Ellen and Jo, and he had to fight his anger once more.

“She’s a liar, Charlie,” he insisted, grabbing her shoulder and ducking his head to see her when she refused to look up at him. “Hey. Listen to me. She’s a liar, you can’t trust anything she said.”

It’s all a lie.

“But it makes sense,” whispered Charlie, sounding more broken than Sam had ever heard. He’d seen Charlie cry before, had been there for her through her darkest moments. But he had never seen her this defeated before, and he promised himself Kat would pay for making her feel that way.

Instead of trying to make her feel better with words, Sam drove her back to Dean’s with him. He parked the car a couple of blocks away even though Kat probably already knew where Dean and Cas lived, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

Neither Cas nor Dean were home when they reached the apartment. Sam eyed the couch for about a millisecond before he turned to Dean’s room, telling Charlie she should take Cas’s bed while they were at the hospital. She agreed with a soft smile, her eyes still teary as she pulled him down for a hug.

Sam smiled as he hugged her, forcing his own tears away as she placed a soft kiss on his cheek and bid him goodnight. He knew she was most likely going to cry herself to sleep, but right then he didn’t have it in him to offer her any comfort. He stumbled into his brother’s room and, without even taking off his shoes, he collapsed on the bed.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.


	12. Warnings

By the next morning Sam felt like he was on auto-pilot. He moved with a mechanical stiffness, using menial tasks to keep his mind occupied. He let Charlie sleep as long as he could while he made them a simple breakfast of bacon and eggs. Only once there was nothing left to do and the silence in the apartment was becoming deafening did he go to wake her.

Neither of them mentioned what had happened the night before as they ate. They spoke about anything and everything else, purposely dancing around any subject that could lead into a discussion of last night. However Sam knew they couldn’t keep it up forever. Sooner or later they would have to talk about it.

They cleaned up mostly in silence, only a few words passing between them as they worked in harmony. Sam washed the dishes as slowly as he could without raising suspicion. He was honestly dreading the end of his task, afraid it meant he would have to think about it all. And he was right; almost as soon as Charlie put the last plate away she turned to him with a heavy sigh.

“How long are we gonna pretend last night didn’t happen?” she asked not unkindly, a sympathetic look on her face. At first he didn’t answer, pretending to be busy wiping down the benches until she lightly grabbed his arm and forced him to stop. “Sam, don’t do this. I know you’re upset, but you have to think about this logically.”

“There’s nothing to think about,” he replied, his voice sounding dull and lifeless even to him. He pulled his arm from her grip and turned to the bathroom without looking her in the eye. “I’m going for a shower then I’m heading over to see Bobby. You should stay here and rest some more.”

“Sam,” he heard Charlie say, but he had locked himself in the bathroom before she finished whatever she was going to say. He refused to let his mind wander as he tuned the water to the correct temperature, then stripped down and hopped in.

He washed himself down methodically, forcing himself to focus on what he was doing with simple instructions. Put soap in hand; rub soap over skin; scrub skin clean; repeat until the memory of last night was scrubbed from his mind. Of course that was never going to work, and after nearly twenty minutes he gave up and turned the water off.

Charlie didn’t try and force him to talk again as he prepared to leave. She did hug him longer and tighter than normal, with a whispered ‘be safe’ as he walked out the door. He felt bad for leaving her alone right then, but on the same hand he needed time himself. He was of no comfort to her at the moment.

He’d meant it when he’d told Charlie he was going to see Bobby. He also planned on telling Dean the truth about Katka, minus his little trip to see her. As the elevator took him down to the ground floor he practised what he was going to say, even planning around various responses from Dean as he started walking.

Two blocks away and all of Sam’s planning slipped from his mind as he glanced up at the wrong moment. The silver sedan still sat where he’d left it the night before. He froze on the sidewalk as his mind betrayed him and flooded his thoughts with last night.

Suddenly his chest tightened and he found it hard to breathe as he stumbled back two steps. He spotted a bench not far away and struggled to get to it without drawing attention to himself. As soon as he reached it he dropped, his head in his hands and his eyes squeezed shut. It took him nearly five minutes to control his breathing, and his tears.

Now his anger had faded and he could think more clearly, he started to view the things Katka had said in a new light. While he still didn’t believe anyone in his family could work for gangs as she suggested, he couldn’t work out what that lie would serve.

What did she gain from it? How did tarnishing his family name like that get her anything other than his anger and mistrust?

“Sam Winchester?”

He glanced up at the unfamiliar voice, a little surprised to find himself surrounded by three dark-skinned men. Two of them sat either side of him without so much as an introduction, while the third turned and appeared to admire the garden behind him.

“Who are you?” he asked carefully, eyes raking over the ink running up their arms. There was no identifying gang marks he could see, but their attitudes were enough to tell him they belonged to a gang. He hoped they didn’t work for Kat, but he felt he was in a lot of trouble either way.

“Names Matt,” replied the man to his left, but something about his tone and expression made Sam think he was lying.

“Matt?” he repeated doubtfully, struggling to keep his fear in check. Hundreds of people walked past them in all directions going about their day, but Sam didn’t hold out any hope they would help him if things went south. The man, ‘Matt’, chuckled lightly.

“I know who you are, you really think I’d give you my real name to use against me?” he asked as if Sam were stupid. “Do I look like a fool to you?”

“What do you want?” asked Sam instead of answering, trying and failing to shift on the bench. The men had him caged in, made it impossible for him to move much. He turned to study the one on his right and suddenly realised he recognised him. He was one of the men who had been at the hospital yesterday. His back straightened when he realised. “You work for her…”

All three men made sounds of annoyance then, the one on his right actually letting out a low, menacing growl. Sam swallowed loudly as he turned back to ‘Matt’, hoping for some kind of explanation.

“We don’t work for KB,” he snapped, eyes narrowed on Sam. After a moment of silence in which he glared at Sam hatefully, Matt straightened and leaned back casually, one arm going along the bench behind Sam. “What we want is for you to come with us, quietly.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” answered Sam quickly, moving to stand and walk away. The man to his right grabbed his arm and forced him to stay in his seat rather roughly. “Let me go.”

“Think about this, Sam,” said Matt, still acting calm and casual, as if they were a group of friends discussing a time to hang out. Sam glanced up at the people moving around them as he realised what he was implying. “You cause a scene here and it will only cause more problems. My boss insists on seeing you, and one way or another you will come with us.”

It only took him a total of thirty seconds to realise he had no other options. He didn’t for one minute doubt these guys would hurt the civilians if he didn’t do as they asked. He sighed and set his jaw before he agreed to go with them without a fuss. He didn’t see the two men standing by the silver sedan, watching with wary eyes.

He’d been north of Midtown a few times since his parents had died, but only ever as far as 86th. Unlike south of Midtown, there was almost no one on the streets as they drove through the northern districts. Despite being late morning all the gates between districts were closed.

As they passed through gate fifty-two into Harlem, Sam was surprised at how little damage there was. It had been years since the war, but he knew for a fact that the council refused to rebuild. And yet it was obvious most of the buildings had been rebuilt in the fifteen years since. The district actually looked better than Sam remembered it from when he lived there.

Hell, it looked better than most of the districts south of Midtown.

Within half an hour they were pulling up outside the Harlem Boy’s clubhouse in the heart of Harlem. Sam felt highly uneasy as he stepped out of the car, uncomfortably aware of all the weapons around him. Like at the Multitude clubhouse, people surrounded the entire building, all facing outward as if expecting attack. Sam eyed them carefully as he was led into the building.

The inside wasn’t anywhere near as grand as the Multitude clubhouse, but still more impressive than he had expected. Digital paintings lined the walls and soft carpets covered the hard marble floors. Sam was left in a room off to the side that was a lot like the one he’d met Kat in. The only difference was the colour scheme, which was yellow and black, and the walls in here had pictures on them.

He was inspecting one on the furthest wall, a picture of a clean and pristine New York from decades before he’d been born, when the doors opened again and four more men walked in. Sam instantly recognised one of them as Matt, but it didn’t ease his apprehension one bit.

“Sam Winchester,” said the man in the lead rather cheerfully. He sat in one of the chairs quickly, the others moving to sit around him. Sam remained standing as he faced them, trying to appear as calm as they seemed. “Glad you could meet me. Take a seat.”

“Did I really have a choice?” Sam asked carefully, refusing to sit when he realised the forth wasn’t sitting, either. He stood by the door with a gun in his hands, his eyes narrowed on Sam.

“Drew is extremely loyal and takes his job far too seriously,” replied the first man, gesturing to the one who’d called himself Matt. “But yeah, you had a choice. Roger’s men were under orders to keep you safe. You were within your rights to turn us down, but it wouldn’t have been in your best interests.”

“Why do you care if your men hurt me?” It didn’t make sense, at least not to Sam. Then again, nothing that had happened in the last few days made much sense at all, and this man was making less sense by the minute. “You obviously know who I am. I can take a pretty good guess who you are.”

“Names Osmin,” smiled the first man, his attitude way too calm for Sam’s liking. He then gestured to his left. “This is Roger, leader of the Harlem Boys. And you right, I know exactly who you are. Your brother, too, and your friends. Now, take a seat, you have my word you’re safe in this place.”

“You’ve been following me,” stated Sam, making no move to sit. He’d thought Kat was having him followed, but clearly he was wrong. But what did the Harlem Boys and the Dominicans want with him? “If you hurt any of my friends, my family-”

“If we wanted to hurt any o’ you, you’d already be dead, brutha,” said Roger, his tone low and deadly. Osmin simply raised his hand and Roger shut his mouth and sat back.

“We’ve been watching you and your brother for months,” said Osmin carefully, his smile finally fading. “If we intended to harm you or you goddamn family we woulda done it by now. North o’ 97th my word is law, and I’ve just given you my word you safe here. I aint gonna ask you again to take a seat, but we have a lot to discuss and I think you’d be more comfortable if you sit.”

Deciding it was safer to listen, Sam moved to sit opposite them slowly. ‘Matt’ and Roger glanced at each other, but Osmin only smiled.

“Why have you been following me?” It was a fair question in Sam’s mind. With all these gangs suddenly coming for him, he was entitled to know why. “Why me, why my brother?”

“Because I remember your folks,” answered Osmin, much to Sam’s annoyance and confusion. He didn’t say anything though, more afraid here than he had been with Kat. He didn’t have a weapon on him this time. When the silence grew too long, Osmin leaned forward with a sigh. “I realise you have no reason to trust me, which is why I wanted to meet with you in person. I’m hoping you have enough sense to listen to what I have to say without letting your goddamn emotions rule your reactions.”

“I’m listening,” muttered Sam after a moment. Osmin nodded then as he sat back.

“Twenty-five years ago I was approached by two messengers from People Nation, sure you heard o’ them?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of them,” answered Sam carefully, attempting and failing to relax his muscles. “They were taken out by Multitude twelve, thirteen years ago. What’s that got to do with me?”

“People Nation wasn’t taken out by Multitude,” said Roger. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Sam since he’d walked in, and his hard glare was making him more than uneasy. “People Nation is Multitude.”

“What?” asked Sam, leaning forward without thinking.

“The original founder o’ People Nation was killed tryin’ to take back Harlem durin’ the war,” explained Osmin slowly. Sam still didn’t see what this had to do with him, but he didn’t speak out right away. Osmin was watching him with a slight frown now, as if confused by something. “Name was changed to Multitude by his second in command after dude took over. I thought you would know all this.”

“No one knows,” replied Sam, still unsure what the point of this was. “Everyone I know thought Multitude took out People Nation. I really don’t see what this has to do with-”

“Your folks never told you?” asked Roger, his frown finally fading into a mask of shock as he glanced sideways as Osmin. “What if its not him?”

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude here,” started Sam, his emotions getting the best of him, “but I’ve had a long hard few days and I’m seriously not in the mood for more games. I have nothing to do with People Nation, or Multitude, or whatever they’re called these days.”

“This makes things difficult,” said Osmin, his calm and cheerful attitude completely gone now. He brought one hand to his mouth as he watched Sam. Then he sighed and straightened his back, lifting his chin slightly. “Your folks were Mary and John Winchester, right?”

“You said you remembered them,” said Sam as way of answer. A part of him felt like he already knew where this was going, and he already didn’t like it. “How?”

“They came to us seeking mutual protection,” answered Osmin, his tone strictly business-like now. “It was them who brought the peace treaty to the table back in thirty-two. It was also them who warned us Ghost Town was planning to break that treaty, and it was because o’ them we won the war.”

“You’re lying,” snapped Sam, yet part of him couldn’t help but wonder… “Why would they warn you? Why would they help you? They spent their lives trying to stop people like you from tearing this city apart.”

“Your parents worked for People Nation,” said Osmin, raising his hand when the guy by the door raised his gun. Sam clenched his fists, but said nothing as Osmin continued. “Whether you believe that shit or not, they the only reason Ghost Town and DMI didn’t win the goddamn war. Without yo’ folks they would have destroyed New York and wiped the DDP from the goddamn map. Everyone who survived that time is indebted to the Winchester name for what they done, and that is the only reason you’re here.

“War is coming to New York,” continued Osmin, his tone sending shivers down Sam’s spine. “Unlike the Harlem War, this one will spread through all of Manhattan, and not even Midtown will be safe. Your parents did us a great favour, and it’s for this reason I’m warnin’ you. Take your brother, take yo’ friends, and get the hell outta New York before it’s too late.”


	13. It Starts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Split POV Chapter (Dean, Charlie, Cas, Sam)

Dean eyed the people moving about the cafeteria with envy. Sure, them being here meant they or someone they loved was in hospital, too. But still, none of them had to deal with the things he did. They didn’t have to deal with gangs coming for their families like they had big targets painted on their backs. They didn’t have friends who kept secrets, nor a brother who lied about his new girlfriend.

Because Dean wasn’t an idiot, despite what others might believe. He knew something was going on there, even if he didn’t know what just yet. He knew something had happened between Sam and his girl, but with everything else he hadn’t asked yet. Whatever it was, he knew Sam would tell him eventually, and they had more pressing concerns. Aside from Bobby’s survival.

Like what Jo and Ellen were hiding from him. He’d always thought they seemed a little shifty at times, but after last night he was positive something was up. Ellen had known Bobby pretty much her whole life, same as Jo. And yet both of them left without so much as a goodbye last night. Neither of them were answering their phones now, and Benny had said they had looked freaked when they left.

He’d been positive Jo and Ellen would stay by Bobby’s side until he woke. Especially after seeing their reactions when they first saw him. That was why he’d gone down to the cafeteria not long after Sam and Charlie had left; to give them time with Bobby.

“I’m sure its nothing, Dean,” said Benny to his left. Dean grunted in response, but didn’t look up. “Come on, man. You need to go home and have a sleep, clear your head. Call Sam, get him to come stay with Bobby for a while.”

“Charlie called five minutes ago, Sam’s already on his way here,” answered Dean, dropping his head to his hands.

“Does that mean you’ll go home for the night?” asked Cas from his right, a hint of hope in his tone. Dean chuckled and shook his head.

“I think it’s a good idea,” added Benny, leaning close and pretending to sniff Dean’s jacket. “You need a shower, at the very least.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” muttered Cas, but the look on his face told Dean he agreed with Benny.

“Wow, thanks guys,” he grumbled, suddenly losing interest in his coffee as he stood. He knew deep down they were only trying to make him feel better, but it wasn’t working. The only thing that would work would be seeing that KB bitch dead and bloodied by his own hands. He’d kill her for doing this to Bobby.

“Dean!” called Cas, but he ignored him and continued back up to Bobby’s room without even glancing back. He knew his friends meant well, but he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Even if they were right.

As soon as he was around the corner and out of sight, Dean lifted his shirt to his nose and sniffed. They were right, he did need a shower. He promised himself once Sam got there he’d go back to the apartment and have a quick one, just to get the others off his back. Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to be given that chance.

The first thing he noticed when he reached Bobby’s floor was the lack of security. He’d told the hospital about the people Sam had seen outside and they’d promised to keep the guard up just in case. Once more his anger boiled up inside him as he turned to the closest nurse, demanding an explanation.

“Oh, your friends from the precinct are here,” she said politely, a big smile on her lips. “They told security to secure the perimeter or something. A guy called… uh, Zachariah I think, he’s waiting in your friend’s room for you.”

The nurse walked away without another word then, leaving Dean dumbfounded and staring down the hall to Bobby’s room. The only Zachariah he knew was Zachariah Milton, the head honcho at the precinct. What on Earth could he want with Dean?

**||**

Charlie sighed as she left the bathroom, towel drying her hair as she went. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jo, about their life together. Ever since they’d met, Charlie had been smitten with Jo. She was gorgeous, funny, and Charlie had thought she was honest. Discovering Jo had lied to her the entire time they’d known each other was heart breaking.

Part of her wanted to believe what Kat said. Unlike Sam, she had been thinking about it all night and she just couldn’t see a reason to lie. It didn’t gain her anything. Surely being leader of the biggest gang in New York meant she was too busy to waste time with them unless it was important. Charlie just didn’t get it, any of it.

If Jo really wanted to hurt her, she’d had years to do it. Hell, how many times had she spent the night at Ellen’s with Jo? They’d lived together for years now. It wouldn’t have been hard to sneak someone from Multitude in to kill her.

Maybe Kat was right, maybe Jo really did love her…

With another heavy sigh, Charlie glanced over at the clock above Dean and Cas’s TV. It had been nearly half an hour since Sam had left and she’d called Dean. A frown pulled down her eyebrows as she glanced at her phone, seeing there were no missed calls. Sam should have made it to the hospital by now. He’d promised to call once he arrived, and even if he forgot, Dean had promised the same thing.

Figuring Sam must have told Dean the truth, Charlie shrugged and went back into Cas’s room to re-make his bed. If something had gone wrong she was positive someone would have called her.

She had only just pulled the sheets off when someone began pounding on the front door. Charlie jumped, then sighed when she recognised the voice on the other side. Kat must have told her about their little visit last night.

“Charlie! Please, baby, if you’re in there open up! Charlie, please!”

Squaring her shoulders and steeling herself for what was to come, Charlie moved for the door slowly. Jo continued to bang and shout on the other side, as if she was truly afraid something had happened to Charlie. Still, she paused for a moment with her hand on the doorknob, debating whether or not she actually wanted to open it. The only reason she did was because she heard the tears in Jo’s voice.

“Look, I-” began Charlie, only to be cut off when Jo pushed her aside and let a flood of people into the apartment. Charlie cried out in alarm as Jo kept her out of the way, five men she didn’t recognise sweeping through the rooms. Ellen followed Jo in, her face a mask of determination as she turned to Charlie.

“Where’s Sam?” she practically demanded as Charlie pushed Jo back and backed herself into a corner.

“What’s it to you?” demanded Charlie instead of answering, desperately trying to hide her fear as the men came back into the living room, shaking their heads. Jo watched her with tear filled eyes but didn’t make a move to touch her again. “I know who you are. Do what you want to me, Sam’s not stupid enough to let himself get caught by you.”

“Charlie, we’re not going to hurt you,” whispered Jo, her expression a mask of hopelessness. “You have to believe me. I know I lied to you, and I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth, but no one is going to hurt you, I promise.”

“Then get out,” she growled, surprised to find her hands weren’t shaking as she pointed to the door. “All of you get out and leave us alone!”

“Charlie,” whined Jo, tears spilling over her eyes as one of the men grabbed her and pulled her from the room gently. Charlie watched her go with a broken heart, wishing she had it in her to forgive her. When Ellen turned to her she tensed, prepared to fight if she had to. Although she knew she wouldn’t win.

“I know you’re upset, and I know you don’t trust us right now,” she said slowly, calmly. Charlie kept her mouth shut. “But you need to come with us. New York is about to erupt, Midtown is no longer safe.”

Before Charlie could answer the building shook as an explosion was heard not far away. Screams rent the air as gunfire sounded in the streets below, making Charlie’s blood run cold. Ellen grabbed hold of her wrist as she tried to pass her, pulling her back into the older woman’s chest as the men rushed out the door again.

“You have to trust us, Charlie, you’re not safe here,” she said quickly, and Charlie made a split seconds decision to trust them. She rushed down the stairs two at a time, the men in front of her, Ellen and Jo behind. With her phone in hand Charlie tried to call Sam, then Dean, but neither of them were answering.

Charlie turned to Ellen and Jo as they reached the ground floor, intending to tell them something was wrong with Sam and Dean, but she never got the chance. As she opened her mouth someone shouted ‘get down’ and the next thing she knew she was thrown to the ground as gunfire peppered the walls above her head.

**||**

Cas jumped at the sound of gunshots. He and Benny were up instantly, guns drawn as they moved through the hospital to the front doors. People were running in the opposite direction, screams rent the air as nurses and doctors rushed to secure their patients. Cas rounded up anyone from the precinct he could find, along with any hospital security he passed.

“Benny, find Dean,” he called, turning back in time to see Benny take off for the elevators. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but it wasn’t in his nature to hide. As soon as he reached the front doors he saw what was causing the commotion.

A group of men were closing in on the hospital, shooting at anything or anyone who moved. Cas’s heart tightened at how many bodies he could already see. It was near lunch time, a lot of people would have been milling about out the front…

With a roar of anger, Cas found a decent place to take cover and began firing back. He took down three before the group realised where he was and started firing back at him. The other officers and security teams joined the fray, four more falling before the enemy group started to back off.

As soon as he realised they weren’t shooting at him anymore, Cas leapt from behind his hiding place and took chase. He dropped again two yards down the path, keeping low to avoid the blasts now whizzing past his head. Shouting filled his ears and Cas risked a glance up, only to wish he hadn’t.

Dean was at the end of the path, being dragged towards a large black van. Cas could hear him screaming, could see him struggling, and without thought he jumped up and ran after him. A blast from a blaster just grazed his left arm, but Cas didn’t let it stop him as Dean spotted him and started calling his name.

“Cas! Cas! Find Sam! Help Bobby!” he cried, not a word of helping himself. Cas sped up when they threw Dean into the back of the van, already knowing he wouldn’t make it in time. As the door slammed shut and the van took off, something hot tore through Cas’s leg and sent him down again.

All he could think of was Dean as people rushed over to help.

**||**

Sam sighed as he paced the room, mind running wild. He had no idea what he was supposed to think, about any of it. Unlike when he had seen Kat, Sam had listened to Osmin with as much of an open mind as he could manage. And he had learned quite a bit. Whether or not he believed it all was a different story.

The one thing he couldn’t deny, despite how much he wanted to, was that the man hadn’t lied to him. He had proof for everything he said besides the supposed upcoming war. Unlike with Kat, Osmin had actual video footage of a meeting between the Harlem Boys, the Dominicans Don’t Play, and his parents. The things they said left little room for assumptions.

Photos were easily faked, especially in this day and age. Sure, videos could be faked, too, but what would be the point? It took a lot of effort and money to fake a video like that, and from what Osmin had said the DDP didn’t have those kind of resources.

If what he said about the war was true… why waste time trying to convince Sam of a lie? And Osmin had been intent on convincing him. He and Osmin were the only two left in the room, the others having been called or sent away for whatever reason. The man watched him closely as he paced, but didn’t utter a word. Sam had been pacing for the last fifteen minutes, shooting off questions whenever he thought of them.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” said Osmin after a full ten minutes of silence. “But you need to start making plans, Sam. Whether you believe me about your family or not isn’t the issue here. War is coming to New York, you can’t stop it.”

Instead of answering right away, Sam glanced over to the landscape of New York he’d been admiring earlier. Now it bore a frozen image of his parents, the video paused where Osmin had left it. They were sitting in a room that looked similar to the one he was in, and he couldn’t stop the smile crossing his lips as he stared at their faces. Yeah, they’d lied to him pretty much his whole life, but he could understand why and didn’t hold it against them.

They were only trying to keep him safe.

“The world they tried to keep you from has caught up to you…”

The words ran though his mind unbidden, pushing the smile from his lips as he sighed. His parents had only wanted to protect him and Dean, he couldn’t be mad about that. For all he knew they had planned to tell them the truth when they were older. He was only eight when they had died; Dean was only twelve. He sat back on the couch before speaking again.

“I trust you,” said Sam slowly, once again lifting his eyes to meet the Dominican leader. He almost laughed at the shock that crossed Osmin’s face. “It’s probably a mistake that will get me killed, but I trust you. You didn’t have to sit down with me, I get that.” The next words nearly stuck in his throat, but Sam forced them out anyway. “Thank you. For showing me the truth.”

Osmin blinked twice before he frowned, his head tilting to the side again.

“Your folks were good people, brother,” he said softly, as if trying to reassure him. “Yeah, they were considered criminals by the laws of the council, but that don’t mean they weren’t good people. I fought beside them during the war, when my father was head of DDP.

“Your mom was fearless,” he continued. “She led the assault on GT and DMI twice, your father right behind her. Saved my life one of those times. You don’t have to believe me on this, but it was a sad day ‘round here when we found out they were dead.”

A single tear rolled down Sam’s cheek before he could stop it. If Osmin noticed it he didn’t say, but Sam didn’t bother wiping it away as he nodded slowly. He knew his parents were good people, he had never once doubted it. Another soft smile crossed his lips as he glanced back at the screen. Miss you guys.

Before Sam could say anything alarms cut through the silence, making him jump and Osmin scowl. He stood with the Dominican leader, waiting as he ripped open the door and called to one of his men. Sam could only just hear what was being said, but the words made his blood run cold and his heart leap into this throat.

“Midtown’s under attack.”


	14. First Wave

The streets were eerily empty as Sam was driven through them, alarms sounding throughout the whole city. A fleet of cars, vans, and bikes followed them, with some turning off at certain intersections. The only people he’d actually seen were those running to jump into a passing car or van. Osmin had ordered just under half his men to the borders, while the rest followed him and Sam to Midtown.

“Guess you weren’t lying about the war,” muttered Sam idly, struggling to keep unwanted thoughts at bay. Everyone he loved was in Midtown, and from what he heard a lot of people were already dead. He couldn’t help but worry about Dean, and Cas, and Charlie. Everyone he knew, everyone he loved, and there was a good chance he would never see them again.

Osmin made the driver pull up a few blocks from Midtown just in case. Sam’s hand shook as he climbed out of the car, the sounds of gunfire and explosions reaching his ears. He shivered as faint screams echoed back to them, his heart threatening to burst from his chest as Osmin handed him a blaster.

“Know how to handle one of these?” he asked with raised eyebrows, taking two more from one of his men as they passed. Sam swallowed audibly as he nodded, bringing a humourless smile to Osmin’s lips. “You don’t have to do this, Sam. Go back to the clubhouse until its safe. This isn’t your war.”

“My friends and family are in the middle of that,” he growled, gesturing towards Midtown as one of the buildings disappeared from the horizon. The collapse resulted in a massive dust cloud billowing towards them, the ground shaking with the impact. Sam tried so hard not to think about the civilians who had lived in that building as he fixed Osmin with a hard look. “This is my war whether you like it or not. You won’t stop me from going in.”

“Good,” chirped Osmin, throwing him the battery clip for his blaster before taking off without another word. One of his men whistled, and suddenly the men and women around him split up, all moving towards Midtown. Sam fell into step with one group, trying to place himself near the front without actually being in the first row. He lost sight of Osmin in the process.

The alarms grew louder the closer they got to Midtown, until they cut off suddenly without explanation. As soon as they fell quiet the people ahead of him stopped. Before Sam could understand what was happening he was shoved down a side street, forced to run alongside the men with him. When he heard the commotion behind him he realised what had happened and turned back.

A few of the men behind him stopped when they saw him pushing his way through them, Osmin’s shouts reaching his ears at the end of the side street. He called to them as he pushed past those trying to make him run.

“That’s your boss! He needs you!” When none of them moved Sam growled and redoubled his efforts to reach the end. Bullets rained down on him as he burst onto the main road, narrowly avoiding him as he ducked behind one of the now abandoned vans. To his surprise, three of the men he’d yelled at followed him. “Where are the shots coming from?”

“Up there,” replied one of them, pointing off to the East. Sam nodded to show he had heard, then poked his head around the side of the van. He didn’t get a good enough look before more blasts came for him. With a curse on his lips, Sam moved to the other side, hoping to spot Osmin at least.

The man in question was about a block away, and it looked like he was alone. Sam didn’t even think when he saw others closing in on his hiding space. He turned to the man on his left.

“Cover me!” Only waiting long enough for the other man to nod, Sam took off. He felt the blasts impact the wall behind him as he ran, his own blaster aimed for those honing in on Osmin. All six hit the ground before he dropped and slid into place beside the Dominican leader, but he doubted he had actually hit any of them.

“What the hell are you doin’, fool!” cried Osmin when he reached him, appearing no worse for wear.

“Saving your damn life,” snapped Sam, now desperate to get into Midtown. The alarms had stopped, but he could still hear screams, shots, and the occasional explosion. The immediate area seemed pretty quiet for the moment, and Sam didn’t want to waste any more time. “Are you coming?”

Without waiting for a reply Sam was up and jogging down the street, sticking as close to the buildings as he could. Osmin and his men caught up with him at the first intersection, none of them glancing his way. About two blocks out from Midtown they paused again, Sam’s heart sinking.

Bodies already lined the streets, not a thing moving besides the wind. Closing his eyes, Sam took a deep breath and forced himself to not focus on them too hard. There was nothing he could do for the dead, but he could do his best to save anyone still alive.

“Don’t bother,” muttered Osmin when one of his guys bent down to check the pulse of one of the closest victims. Sam felt his jaw clench as he glanced up at Osmin, finding the man was already watching him. “They’re dead. This is what your grandfather and my father wanted to stop. Despite their differences they saw the benefits of working together.”

Sam didn’t know what he was getting at as Osmin glanced at his men and sighed. Still, he waited as patiently as he could, sensing whatever it was would be important. After a second Osmin looked back up, a frown pulling down his eyebrows.

“When you see KB, tell her we accept,” he finally spat out, sounding annoyed at himself more than anything. Without missing a beat he turned and pointed to two of the men with them. “Jonesy, Egg, get him through Midtown.”

Before anyone could protest his orders, Osmin turned and started down a side street, hollering at the top of his lungs. People rushed to join him as he walked away, forming an almost protective barrier around him.

“Where are you going?” called Sam, finding it hard not to laugh despite the situation.

“I’m gon’ find me some Dead Men,” he called back almost cheerily. Sam shook his head before he continued down the street he was on. ‘Jonesy’ and ‘Egg’ fell into step either side of him without a word, bringing an odd sense of calm with their presence. He was still scared out of his mind, but being alone would have been so much worse.

Especially with how many dead he counted.

Deciding he knew best since it was his territory, Sam let Egg take lead when he turned down a side street. They paused at every intersection, finding each one strangely empty and quiet. He hadn’t heard another explosion for quite some time. While he hoped it was the end of it, part of him knew it was far from over.

Sam could see they were only a block out from Midtown, but something told him to stick with Egg and Jonesy. Only once they reached Central park did they turn back towards Midtown, still keeping to the walls. Gate fourteen was thrown wide open as they approached, one side actually hanging off its hinges, squeaking slightly in the breeze. They literally had to step over bodies to get through it, guns raised and senses on high alert.

They were about six blocks north-west of the hospital where Bobby had been admitted, where he hoped Dean and Cas still were. To his dismay, both Egg and Jonesy turned to the East, away from the hospital. Sam kept pace behind them, his intake of breath drawing Egg’s attention as he turned back. Sam had intended to tell them they had to go to the hospital first, but before the words left his mouth Egg’s eyes widened and Sam found himself shoved aside.

“RUN!” called Jonesy as Egg grunted, but the man didn’t fall as they took off for the closest alleyway in search of cover. Shots and blasts sounded behind them, but Sam didn’t get the chance to see who was shooting.

As soon as there was a break he poked his head around the corner and took aim. He managed to drop three before they started firing again, but it did no good. Half a dozen more rushed to take their place as they closed in. Sam could hear faint shouting over the shots, and for one heart stopping moment he swore he recognised his name being called.

Trying to keep his panic under control, Sam glanced behind him only to realise they found themselves in a dead end. He cursed under his breath as the wall they hid behind started to crumble under the pressure. Out of pure desperation, Sam pointed his blaster around the corner without aiming and hoped for the best.

Convinced this was the end for him, Sam sent a quick prayer up asking for something to keep his family safe. He slumped back against the wall when his blaster was literally shot from his hand, fingers burning from the blast.

This is it, he thought idly, finding his panic surprisingly fading. He had accepted this was it, this was the end. No one knew where he was, no one knew to come and save him. Even if they did, he didn’t know anyone who could manage it against so many…

At least, that’s what he thought.

Screams rent the air as the shooting moved away from their hiding place. He waited a few moments before slipping his head around the corner to check.

It took him a few seconds to accept what he was seeing.

Those who had been closing in on them were now turning and running, most of them dropping like flies. Sam watched for a few seconds as he stood slowly, Egg and Jonesy with him, then turned to see who had saved him. His mouth dropped open as the second group began to cheer, half of them taking chase while the rest spread out around Sam’s hiding place.

It was like something from a movie as his eyes landed on the leader of the second group, her smirk clear to see. She sauntered right up to them with her blaster placed casually on her shoulder, Ben and her cousin on her flanks. Sam forced his mouth shut as they reached him.

“Glad to see you’re still in one piece, Winchester,” mused Kat, giving him a cursory once over before turning and frowning at his companions. Sam frowned as Kat pushed past him and grabbed Egg’s arm. “You’re hit. You Osmin’s men?”

“I’m fine,” grunted Egg, pulling back from Kat and putting Sam between them again. It was clear neither of Osmin’s men liked Kat as Egg turned to face him. “You good? We need to get back.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” said Kat as Egg and Jonesy went to leave. For a moment Sam was afraid it was going to be a fight, especially with the look on Jonesy’s face. Kat, however, showed no signs of aggression as she turned and called for someone behind her. “Get these two back to the clubhouse and see this one’s patched up!”

“We aint goin’ nowhere with you, bitch,” growled Jonesy, one arm stretched in front of Egg as if to keep him back. Kat continued to ignore him.

“Stefan, take Mike and the Nomads, find Osmin and whoever’s left of his crew,” she ordered calmly as Sam’s anger grew and grew. “This was just the first wave, they’re coming back. When you find him tell him times up. Tell him about DMI and GT, then tell him no matter his answer my other offer still stands.”

Forgetting what Osmin had said about accepting Kat’s offer, Sam lost control of his anger as she continued to ignore him. All he wanted was to find his family, make sure everyone was okay, yet it seemed everyone else was determined to stop him. When she issued orders to get him back to the clubhouse in Chelsea too, he snapped.

“Stop!” he shouted, earning a lot of strange looks. Kat shut her mouth and turned to him slowly, her expression unreadable as he struggled to control his breathing and heart rate. “My family’s out there somewhere. I’m not leaving until I know they’re safe!”

“Sam,” came another voice, one he vaguely recognised. For a brief moment shock over-rode his anger and fear when another pushed his way through the crowed, placing himself between Sam and Kat.

“Gabe?” asked Sam incredulously, not quite believing his own eyes. As far as everyone knew Gabriel was dead. He and Cas had lived north of Midtown during the first war. Gabriel had disappeared back then, along with Castiel’s parents. Castiel had been found in the rubble of his old home, barely alive. Sam, Dean, and Charlie had been Castiel’s family ever since. “But… how?”

“Long story, not exactly important right now,” chuckled Gabriel, grabbing Sam’s arm lightly and tugging him forward. “What’s important is getting you out of Midtown.”

“But-”

“They’re safe, Sam,” said Gabe before he could argue. Almost instantly the fear left his body, shoulders sagging as the words ran through his mind. “Kat got everyone she could out before it the real fighting began. Cas was shot a few times but he’s okay. Little pissed with me, but okay. Even got Bobby before the hospital fell.”

Sam didn’t question his choice of words as he willingly followed Gabriel over to a waiting car. He didn’t stop to think there was a reason Gabe didn’t mention his brother or Charlie directly.

It felt like a lifetime since he’d last seen his family. Of course it had only been a few hours since he’d seen Charlie, less than twenty-four since he’d seen Dean. With everything that had happened it felt like a lot longer than it was. He couldn’t wait to see them for himself, to see they were okay with his own eyes.

If he’d been paying attention, Sam would have known something was wrong. If he’d been paying attention he would have never left Kat’s side.


	15. Take Charge

Benjamin and Gabriel were the only two from Multitude in the car. Sam was a little surprised Kat let them go without more protection, but he guessed she needed as many people as possible right now. He didn’t dwell on it as they made it to Garment without trouble, the car speeding up once through the gates.

“Will Kat meet us in Chelsea?” he asked, briefly regretting his choice to not follow her and fight. He was surprised to see her fighting like the rest, half expecting her to hide behind her men. He also wondered why she hadn’t taken the car back with them. There was enough room for her, but he supposed she wanted to make sure Midtown was clear before returning.

“Once Stefan gets Osmin’s answer he’ll meet us at the clubhouse,” answered Gabriel dismissively, and like before, Sam thought nothing of it. He was too eager to see Dean, and Cas, and Charlie to care much when Kat came back, as long as she did. He probably shouldn’t still care about her as much as he did, but he couldn’t help it. At least she would be safe with all those people.

“And what ‘bout us?” asked Egg angrily from Sam’s right. It seemed both men were a little afraid to be finding themselves in Multitude territory.

“We’ll keep her promises,” answered Benjamin from the driver’s seat, and if Sam wasn’t mistaken he swore the man was struggling not to cry. He briefly wondered if the older man had lost someone during the fight. “You’ll be back with your boss as soon as its safe.”

Sam didn’t say anything else as they drove. The streets were as empty as they had been north of Midtown, except for the people surrounding the clubhouse itself. They parted as the car neared, only re-joining ranks once they were through. As soon as they pulled up outside the clubhouse Sam was out of the car.

He followed Gabriel and Benjamin up the stairs, Egg and Jonesy falling into step behind him. Both men seemed uneasy, watching everyone with narrowed eyes. Sam didn’t blame them; he’d felt the same the first time he’d come here. Now he didn’t care, not as long as his family was inside.

“Ben,” called Gabriel when they got inside, stopping the other man from walking away. Sam couldn’t see his face, but he realised his guess must have been right by the slight shake in his shoulders. The man was crying. “I’m sorry. It was her choice.”

“I know,” replied Benjamin, his voice rough and strained like before. Despite not completely trusting or liking the man, Sam felt a pang of sympathy as he shrugged Gabe’s hand off his shoulder and walked away. Gabriel sighed as Sam eyed the others in the lobby, before turning to look at the men standing guard outside. All of them looked slightly down-cast, and he couldn’t help but wonder who had been lost. Obviously someone they all knew and respected…

“Sam,” called Gabriel after a moment, and Sam realised he’d been staring. The shorter man nodded down a side hall, his expression sombre. “This way. You two should come as well, get that arm patched up.”

Sam’s hope that everything was okay slipped away as he followed Gabriel through the halls. Something felt wrong, he just wasn’t sure what yet. Gabriel said Cas had been shot… maybe it was worse than he’d made it sound. That thought had Sam speeding up, falling into step beside Gabriel rather than tailing him.

“What happened?” he asked softly, hoping Gabriel would give him a straight answer. “You said Kat got out everyone she could… who didn’t make it?”

Castiel was here, but no one had mentioned Charlie. Sam’s heart sunk as he realised Benjamin had known her, too. Gabriel had said it was her choice… please not Charlie…

“A few of Kat’s guys died trying to get to the hospital,” replied Gabriel just as quietly, not looking up at Sam until they paused outside a door. “Cas got shot, but he’ll live. A few of your coppa friends helped us get Bobby out, too. Only half the patients were clear of the hospital before it fell. Lost a few more there.”

“Gabe,” said Sam in warning, realising he was working up to telling him something important. “What about Charlie?”

“Sam!” came her voice then, a flash of red appearing in his peripheral vision before the woman in question nearly bowled him over. Relief washed over him as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her tight to him as she started to sob into his chest. “Oh, god, I didn’t think I’d see you again! Kat told us you’d been taken north of Midtown and I-”

“Charlie, Charlie, shhh, I’m okay, I’m here,” replied Sam hastily, squeezing her once before pulling back to look at her. There was a bruise on her forehead, and blood coated her right thigh, but otherwise she appeared no worse for wear. He sighed again when he looked through the door she’d left open and saw Ellen and Jo, both sitting beside Bobby. He let Charlie go when he saw Bobby’s eyes were open.

“Good seein ya, ya bloody idjit,” he growled when Sam stepped into the room, bringing an unwitting smile to Sam’s face. Castiel was in another bed, apparently sleeping, with a bloody Benny sitting to his right. Benny sighed and nodded when he saw him, but said nothing as he glanced back down at his hands.

“Bobby, thank god you’re okay,” mumbled Sam, taking his hand lightly as he smiled. “You scared the crap outta me old man. But I bet Dean’s already had his say, hasn’t he?”

The atmosphere was already pretty grim within the make-shift medical wing, however at his words Sam swore everyone in the room held their breath. It was only then Sam realised there was someone missing, his heart stopping in his chest as he glanced around the room again.

No… no, god, please NO!

Dean wasn’t there. Without a word Sam turned back to Bobby, and the look in his eyes was enough. His entire world came crashing down around him as he fell back into an empty seat, a strange ringing in his ears. He was aware the people around him were talking, but their words made no sense as he struggled to accept what they were trying to tell him.

“Where is he?” he asked when the ringing faded. He felt nothing, not even anger as he pictured Dean in his head, laughing at something stupid Sam had done last week. When no one answered him he looked up, fixing each of them with a hard glare, saving Gabriel for last. Gabriel took a step back when he stood, fear crossing his features as Ellen and Jo stood with him. “Where. Is. My. Brother?!”

“The Ghosts have him,” answered Ellen, the only one who didn’t back down when he turned his glare on her. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin when their eyes met. “They took him from the hospital, there was nothing anyone could do.”

Sam glanced down when she raised her hand, holding something small out to him. Sam eyed it for a moment before he realised what it was. He took the recorder from her without a word, giving her a questioning frown as she pointed to the blank wall on her right. Realising no one was going to tell him anything else, Sam pressed play and watched as an image appeared on the wall.

His heart stopped at the sight of Dean. He looked worse than Benny did, which was saying something. Dean looked like he was barely conscious as he looked in the general direction of the camera, hands bound above his head. He hung from his restraints, feet barely touching the ground as blood dripped down his nose and off his chin. Sam growled low in his throat, desperate to do something.

“You know who this is,” came a voice off-screen. Sam’s blood ran cold as he recognised it, already shaking his head in denial. The camera shifted slightly as Zachariah came onto screen, a sadistic grin on his lips. “My men will find the other one, its only a matter of time.”

Sam cringed as Zachariah backhanded Dean across the face, the groan of pain tugging at his heart. He then punched Dean in the gut twice, all while laughing, before he turned back to the camera.

“I know about your little promise,” said Zachariah, his tone almost playful. Sam’s hands shook as he watched, his only desire being to help Dean and rip that man apart. “Poor Henry. He trusted you to keep his grandchildren safe, didn’t he? I’d say you failed on that front.”

He was aware the others were watching him closely, and he ignored them all as he struggled to understand how his life had fallen apart so quickly. Less than a week after meeting Kat and everything had been thrown into chaos. However as Zachariah kept talking, Sam realised he didn’t blame Kat for any of it.

“…don’t want the Winchesters,” he was saying, now picking at his nails as if he didn’t care for what was happening. After a brief pause he glanced back up at the camera, a smile pulling his lips apart. “You have twelve hours, or he dies. And he suffers for every hour you dely. Once my men find his brother he will join him. Twelve hours, Ms Biekral.”

As soon as the screen went blank Sam turned to Gabriel, hoping he could explain what Zachariah meant. He didn’t understand why he’d taken Dean in the first place. Zachariah was meant to be a cop himself. He was the boss at the precinct, but Ellen had said Dean was taken by Ghost Town.

“One of you better start explaining why my brother is being tortured by our boss,” he growled, looking from Gabriel, to Ellen, to Jo. All three looked away, refusing to meet his eyes, but Bobby nodded and sat up a bit more with a grunt. “You said something about Ghosts?”

“Ghost Town members,” mumbled Charlie at his elbow.

“We didn’t know Milton had found a way in with the precinct,” Bobby said slowly, pain crossing his features as he readjusted his position. Ellen reached for the button on his IV stand, but Bobby shook his head and pushed her away. “No painkillers, woman, I’m fine. He needs to hear this.”

“Alright,” conceded Ellen with her hands raised. She gestured to the seat she’d left as she pulled Jo away. Sam took it without a word, fighting to keep calm and not think about whatever Dean was suffering right then.

“Before I tell you this I need you to understand your parents loved you somethin’ fierce,” he started, but Sam wasn’t in the mood for the whole story just then.

“No offence, Bobby,” he interrupted as gently as he could given his emotional state, “but I really don’t care for the background story here. I know mom and dad were in People Nation, what I don’t understand is what this has to do with my brother.”

“Okay then,” grunted Bobby after a moment, shaking his head as his shock faded. “Your brother was taken because Milton knew it was the only way he could get to Kat.”

“What?” That didn’t make sense to Sam at all. Kat barely knew Sam, hadn’t even met Dean. Why would she care if he was taken by another gang? “Why should Kat care-”

“Because she promised your grandfather she’d keep you safe no matter what,” said Benjamin from the door. Sam jumped a little as he turned to him. He hadn’t realised he had followed them down here. His frown deepened when he noticed Benjamin’s red eyes.

“Henry trusted Kat more than anyone else,” added Bobby, a hint of affection for Henry in his tone. “Even me. Before he died he made Kat promise she would protect you and Dean if it ever came down to it.”

“And it’s a promise anyone who knew your grandfather intends to keep,” put in Ellen, a sad smile on her lips. Sam’s frown grew as he looked between them. He recalled Zachariah’s words on the tape and his heart cracked.

“Well you failed,” he stated bluntly. Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Gabriel, even Charlie looked away in what Sam could only assume was shame then. But Benjamin, however, growled under his breath.

“Why do you think she’s not here?” he asked gratingly, hands balled into fists at his side. He took a step closer to Sam as he spoke, realisation slowly dawning on him. “You’re so blinded by your self-righteousness you didn’t once stop to think we’re not all the fucking same!”

“Benjamin,” called Bobby, but before he could say anything else Benjamin blew up.

“No!” he shouted as Sam stood, throwing his arms out wide. “This little wanksta sits here and passes judgement on us? After everything we’ve done for him and his brother and he still doesn’t fucking get it! Do you know how many brothers and sisters I lost trying to save your brother’s ass from GT? How many more died fighting to find you before anyone else? And now? Now she’s going to sacrifice herself just to keep some stupid promise she made to a dead man!”

“Benjamin, stop!” called Ellen, her and Jo moving forward to push him from the room as he took another step towards Sam. He was a little surprised to see Egg and Jonesy step forward as if to protect him. Sam had all but forgotten they were there.

“He’s not serious,” Sam half-asked as he turned to Bobby. While he wanted his brother back, a part of him hoped Benjamin was mistaken, maybe even lying to start an argument. The look on Bobby’s face was much like the one he’d given him when he’d asked about Dean, and it was enough to make his heart sink in his chest. “But she’s got all those people with her! Surely they’ll be enough to keep her safe and get Dean out alive?”

“Kat and Milton have known each other for years,” said Gabriel slowly, eyes locked on Sam. “She knew if she took a large force in he would kill Dean before they ever got close. The only way to save your brother was for her to meet his demands. She’ll give herself up before she breaks a promise to your grandfather.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Yes he wanted Dean back, but not like this. The worst part was all of them seemed to just accept her decision like it was law.

“She’s your boss,” he half-growled, spotting Ellen by the door with a few others he’d seen outside.

“Yes, she’s our boss,” said Ellen, her voice devoid of emotion. But Sam knew her well enough to see the sadness she tried to hide. “And she gave us an order. None of us want to let her go, but we all know there is no point in arguing with her once she sets her mind on something.”

“It’s the only way we’ll get Dean back, Sam,” added Bobby, unable to keep his own heartache from his tone. “Katka’s doing what she feels is right.”

“So who’s in charge now?” he asked, giving away nothing of his true intentions. “Benjamin? Stefan? I know she didn’t just leave you all without someone to take over. So who is it?”

“You, actually,” answered Charlie, her voice soft. Sam turned to her when no one else contradicted her. “I-I was there, she told Stefan and Ben they need to listen to you.”

“Club belongs to the Winchesters, she told us,” said Bobby. “If you accept it, we’re to follow you from now on.”

“If not, the club goes to Bobby,” finished Gabriel, hands stuffed in his pockets. Sam nodded as a plan formed in his mind. It was clear by the looks he was getting none of them expected him to take the leadership. And honestly, in any other situation he wouldn’t even consider it. But he knew it was the only way.

“Put the word out,” he said softly, turning to face Ellen by the door. “I don’t care how you do it, but you make sure the whole city knows. Especially Milton.”

“And what do I tell them?” Ellen asked softly, but Sam knew she had already worked it out. One side of his lips pulled up in a half smile before he answered.

“Tell them Sam Winchester is taking back New York.”


	16. Preparations

The tension in the air was so thick it was a wonder no one choked on it. The only sound came from the clinking of machinery as various weapons were cleaned and assembled. Not a word had been said in the last twenty minutes at least, since Abi had returned with a new report.

Milton knew Sam was with Multitude now. His last ‘message’ had made that very clear. Despite Kat’s valiant sacrifice for his brother, Dean was still firmly in Milton’s clutches. He refused to let Dean go as he’d promised. Sam didn’t know what happened to Kat herself; Milton hadn’t mentioned her once, and if it weren’t for Stefan recognising one of the men with Dean, Sam would have assumed she had changed her mind.

Sam jumped when a hand found his shoulder, glancing up to see Benny standing behind him with a grim smile. Someone had patched him up good, and he didn’t look as bad with all the blood washed off him. His nose was broken, and there was a line of stitches underneath his right, slightly swollen eye, but aside from that and a few bruises he was no worse for wear.

“We got a problem, Chief,” he muttered softly, voice too low to carry to those around them. Sam shared a quick glance with Ellen across the table before placing his own blaster down and moving away from the others. When he was far enough away he was sure the others wouldn’t hear, Sam sighed and met Benny’s blue eyes.

“What is it?” he asked without emotion. He couldn’t afford emotions right now, not if he was going to succeed. Getting stressed, or anxious, or even scared would mess with his head. He couldn’t hope to save Dean and Kat if he wasn’t thinking straight.

“We got a bunch of black folk just shown up outside,” said Benny quietly, shutting his mouth when one of the Multitude men walked past with an armload of bombs. “Guy leadin’ them says he knows you, but the guys outside won’t let ‘em in without proof. Said his name was Osmin.”

“Shit,” mumbled Sam, running a hand through his hair as he turned back to the assembly line. “Egg, Jonesy! I need you.”

The two men immediately dropped what they were doing to follow Sam from the room, Benny right on his heels. He knew for a fact the Dominicans didn’t like being in what they considered enemy territory. He also knew that, without Kat to guide them, there was a very good chance whatever was happening outside could quickly turn into a bloodbath.

Sam practically jogged through the halls of the clubhouse. He found Osmin outside like Benny had said, kneeling in the street with his hands on his head. He wore a murderous look as he stared up at the blasters pointing at him and his men. Sam cursed again as he flew down the stairs two at a time, calling for calm.

“He’s with us,” he cried as he pushed through the row of men and women ‘guarding’ the Dominicans. Half of them dropped their weapons immediately, while the rest eyed him angrily before doing the same. Sam had thought his family name would make it easier to control them. It seemed the name Winchester didn’t hold as much respect as he’d assumed.

“He’s the enemy,” snapped one of the closest, angry gaze locked on Osmin who continued to glare up at him hatefully. “He had a chance to be our ally. Damn nig-”

“Hey!” called Sam angrily before the word was finished. He could see Osmin was ready to launch himself at the man, regardless of the weapons trained on him. The man in question looked shocked when Sam shoved him backwards and pointed inside. “Get inside and help prepare. I hear you say that word one more time it won’t be him that shoots you, got it?”

The man grumbled under his breath but obeyed, disappearing inside with only one last glare thrown in Osmin’s direction. Sam watched him go, jaw clenched, before turning to Osmin himself.

“KB promised us safe passage,” growled Osmin as he stood, casting a wary eye over those still around them. Sam quickly realised he didn’t know what had happened yet. “What the hell’s goin’ on, Winchester?”

“Change in leadership,” said Sam, gesturing for Osmin to head inside. “Things are a little hectic at the moment. Everyone’s on high alert, but I swear, you and your people are safe here.”

Osmin looked surprised as he glanced around, but he said nothing as he followed Sam inside. No one said a word until Sam had ushered the Dominicans into the main meeting room near the back of the building.

“So…” began Osmin slowly, an appreciative look on his face. Sam sat at the table and waited patiently for him to speak what was on his mind. “Gotta admit, didn’t think you’d kill her. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Kill her?” asked Sam slowly, realisation dawning as he said it. He held up a hand and shook his head. “Wait, I didn’t kill Kat. Long story short, Milton took my brother and Kat went to get him back. I’m in charge of Multitude until we get her back.”

He didn’t feel like explaining any further, and it seemed that little explanation was enough for Osmin. Either that or he just didn’t care.

“You ain’t gonna get through Midtown,” said Osmin after Sam finished explaining their plan. Sam’s first instinct was to snap at the man, however he managed to hold his tongue. Osmin had been doing this sort of thing for a lot longer than he had. Perhaps his experience would come in handy here. Besides, for him to have reached them here he had to cross through Midtown himself.

“What happened?” Sam wasn’t an idiot. Osmin obviously knew something he didn’t.

“DMI’s claimed Midtown for themselves,” he explained, drawing angry growls from some of the men and women at the table. “They workin’ with GT. Apparently, Milton’s been doin’ some recruiting, despite the terms of our agreement.”

“How many men does he have, do you know?” asked Sam as the door opened again, Ellen, Stefan, and Benny walking in.

“Not sure on exact numbers, but apparently KB pissed a few people off,” said Osmin, jaw clenching when he eyed Stefan and Ellen. His jaw was set when he turned back to Sam, a hard glare in his eyes. “Members of clubs she disbanded hooked up with Milton and his crew. Gotta have two hundred plus men by now. And that’s not including Dead Men.”

Two hundred men. Sam shuddered at the thought, but he didn’t let it deter him. Multitude owned most of New York. Surely he could wrangle up more men than Milton could.

“Message from Blood Money,” said Ellen when she reached Sam, flashing a satellite phone at him. “Aaron’s sending people down by barge, but two of them have already been attacked. Only those going on the west side make it past Midtown. One of the barges went down going past Roosevelt Island.”

“Isn’t Roosevelt Multitude territory?” asked Sam idly, ignoring the phone she held and leaning forward to press a button on the table. Like back at the precinct, a huge holographic map appeared over the table, showing different districts and their ruling gangs. He stood to get a better view, bracing his hands on the edge of the table. As he’d thought, Roosevelt was red just like Chelsea was.

“Roosevelt Island was controlled by the Syndicate until ’33, when your Granddaddy took them out,” replied Ellen quickly. She tapped a few things on the map, bringing up statistics from 2033. “Alastair hated your family long before Samuel took him down. Only reason he’s still alive is ‘cause of your Granddaddy’s mercy. I’d say Alastair’s teamed up with Milton to help bring you down.”

Sam sighed as he studied the numbers, then swiped the page away to bring the map back. There was a shit load of red throughout New York, but now Sam was beginning to doubt how much of it would be loyal. If one would betray him there would surely be more to come.

“I want names,” he started after a moment, every face in the room turning to watch him. “I want names of all the gangs Multitude has ever taken down. I want their names, colours, previous territories, everything. Including those you took down as People Nation.”

“That’s over sixty gangs,” said Stefan angrily. It was clear he didn’t like Sam being in charge one bit, however Sam hoped his loyalty to Kat would prevent him from doing anything stupid. “Even if we only go back twenty years, just in Manhattan alone that’s twenty separate gangs.”

“He’s right, Sam,” added Ellen softly, shooting him a sympathetic look. “Things were a lot different forty years ago. Gangs didn’t start claiming full districts until 2018, before that they only controlled streets.”

“I don’t care,” said Sam bluntly. “GT and DMI need to be dealt with, and we can’t deal with them if we’re defending attacks from our own territory. We need to know who to look out for.”

“I’ll make a list,” said Ellen before turning and leaving the room once more. Stefan followed, but only after glaring at Sam for another minute, first. As soon as the door closed behind them Sam sighed, dropping back into his seat and dropping his head to his hands.

“Bein’ King ain’t as easy or as glamourous as folk think,” commented Osmin after a moment of silence. Sam lifted his head again to meet his eyes, finding the Dominican leader watching him with a rather amused smile. “You keep that seat and its only a matter of time before busta out there wants to challenge you. That boy’s in need of a serious chin-check, let him know you mean business.”

“I’m not interested in keeping the seat,” said Sam, shaking his head before dropping his gaze to the table again. The hologram reflected off the smooth, wooden surface, taunting him with all that red. He’d been a fool to think he could do this. Kat had convinced these people to follow her, but that didn’t mean they were all loyal, or that they’d listen to him, now.

“Don’t matter if you keep it or not,” Osmin replied quickly, once again drawing Sam’s attention. “You got that seat now, brother. You want these people to follow you, you gotta earn their respect. Lettin’ them think you only usin’ them to save your brother won’t get you nowhere. Most o’these folk were beaten in, they weren’t given a place like you. You want them to have your back, you gotta show them you got theirs.”

“And how do I do that?” snapped Sam, at the end of his dwindling patience. Dean was out there being tortured, God only knew what Kat and the men she’d taken with her were going through. He was sick of sitting here waiting. “I don’t know these people! Hell I spent half my life working against them! I haven’t got the faintest clue on how to earn their trust, let alone their respect!”

“You earnt mine,” said Osmin, much to Sam’s surprise. Realising he was now standing, Sam cleared his throat awkwardly and returned to his seat. “I’m serious. When those Dead Men came for me most my own crew took off like little bitches.” Some of Osmin’s people looked away in shame then, but Osmin paid them no mind. “You ran head first into it. Saved my life, even though I’m just a dirty gangsta.”

“I don’t see you as a dirty gangsta,” Sam said, clearly surprising Osmin in return. “You’re a good man, Osmin. And while I appreciate your respect, I don’t think that’s gonna help me with Multitude. I’m still a cop in their eyes.”

“You’re wrong,” came Gabriel’s voice. Sam glanced up to see him walking towards the head of the table with a small grin, Charlie and Jo right on his heels. There was a recorder in his hands, which had Sam raising an eyebrow in question. “Word’s already spread through the clubhouse about how you saved a gang leaders life. And everyone knows you’re going to fight to get Kat back. You don’t know anything about us if you think that won’t work in your favour.”

“Everyone in this building is willing to fight and die for the club,” added Jo as they came to a stop nearby. “Every man and woman who swore by our oath will fight for you. Even more so now they know you’re willing to risk your life for us. You’re not a cop anymore, Sam. Multitude is a family, whether you believe it or not. Which means you’re our father now. It’s up to you to uphold our values, to lead us in the right direction.”

Their words should probably have scared him more than they did. Surely anyone with half a brain would run for the hills in his situation. Yet, for some reason, everything Gabe and Jo said only made him want to fight harder. His gaze dragged over the recorder in Gabe’s hands, and suddenly a new idea was forming in his head.

“Do you remember that Guardian’s series?” he asked softly, keeping his gaze on Charlie and Jo specifically. He knew they adored those books, knew they remembered every last detail from the films. Sam ignored the strange looks he received from Osmin’s people. “Remember how the Guardian’s got into the rebel base?”

“You’re good,” nodded Jo, clearly already on board with his new plan. “It won’t stop Milton’s people, but he’ll be blind on the communications front at least. If Charlie helps we should be able to break into his mainframe fairly easy.”

“Not just his,” said Sam quickly, standing and leaning on the table again. Osmin stood with him, as did almost half of his people. “I want you to hack into everything. Get us into every mainframe in New York, or as many as you can. You make sure the entire city see’s it.”

“What are you thinkin’, Winchester?” asked Osmin as Charlie and Jo took off. Gabriel simply smirked as he turned on the recorder, setting in on the table to capture both the hologram and Sam. “I saw the Guardian’s with my daughter. Their trick only lasted long enough to get them in, not out.”

“This will work,” said Sam dismissively, planning his words carefully in his head. “But I’ll need everyone. That means you and your people, too. Can I rely on you to help me see this through?”

Osmin stayed quiet for so long Sam was almost afraid he would say no. His plan would only work if everyone agreed. He needed Osmin’s men, but even then he needed more. Luckily, if Osmin helped, Sam had a plan to get more.

“Ever since DDP was first founded, the only gangs we sit with have been north of Midtown,” said Osmin slowly. “We ain’t hooked up with no one ‘sides our own. Personally, I think its time for change.”

Sam held his breath as Osmin straightened, not quite daring to hope… Osmin smiled.

“We got your back, Winchester. Just tell us where you need us.”


	17. Fight Back

Katka hated it when things didn’t go to plan. She hated being lied to, and she hated it when people didn’t keep to their word. All anyone had in this world was their word. Breaking it not only insulted the people around you, it also showed a great lack of respect for yourself. She had never hated anyone as much as she hated Milton… except maybe herself.

She should have known he wouldn’t keep his promise. Should have realised giving herself up would do nothing to save Dean. Her only consolation was that Sam, at least, would be safe. Katka had no doubt he would turn down the leadership, in which case Bobby was under orders to get him out of New York. One Winchester would have to be enough.

“I’m sorry, Henry,” she whispered to her hands as another scream of pain tore through the air. Knowing she had failed him hurt more than knowing she was going to die. Knowing he would have been disappointed was worse than anything Milton could dish out.

If she saw the sunrise again it would be a miracle. Milton had promised as much, if not in so many words, and she wasn’t stupid enough to believe anyone would come for her.

Multitude might have been loyal while she was their leader, but Katka knew none of them would risk their lives for her. Bobby might try, but he would focus most of his resources on getting civilians to safety first. And she’d seen some of Milton’s security as she’d approached the Valley. Anyone he sent for her would be slaughtered before they even reached the gates.

She prayed no one came for her.

Despite knowing these four walls would be the last thing she saw, it wasn’t in Katka’s personality to give up. She stayed crouched by the door, waiting for someone to come back, as she had since she’d been left here.

As soon as the door opened she was up, throwing herself at whoever it was with a battle-cry.

The man who’d walked in cried out in alarm as she knocked him over. She managed to pull the knife from the sheath on his hip, slamming it into his chest and then drawing it across his throat without hesitation. Four more men had entered the room by the time she stood, the first still choking on his own blood.

All four rushed her at once, moving quickly to try and pin her arms and take her weapon. Katka threw the blade before they reached her, hitting one almost directly between the eyes and effectively taking him down. The remaining three didn’t slow as their comrade fell, shoving her into the wall and knocking the wind from her lungs.

None of them god a good enough grip on her, though, which allowed her to snake one arm free long enough to elbow the one on her right. She lashed out with her foot next, copping him on the knee, then leaned forward and head-butted him. The third man fell as the last two finally managed to subdue her.

They threw her to her knees, arms pulled uncomfortably behind her back. One of them even pressed his knee into her spine to keep her from moving.

“Nice try, Ms Biekral,” said Milton as he stepped into the room. Kat resisted the urge to growl as she looked up at him, undeterred by his swagger. “Your people would have me believe you are capable of killing everyone in this building, and you couldn’t even handle five. How disappointing. I expected better of you.”

“Give me back that knife and I’ll show you what I can do,” she simpered, keeping her tone as light as she could. She longed to lunge forward and rip that man’s heart from his chest, however she refused to give him the satisfaction of showing it. Not until she could act on her feelings.

“Please, I’m not stupid enough to give you a second chance,” replied Milton, casually plucking the knife from his man’s head. Kat watched as he wiped the blood off on the dead man’s jacket, then placed it carefully atop a nearby table. She met Milton’s gaze when he bent down before her, an almost teasing grin on his lips. “Besides, I can’t risk having to kill you. Not yet.”

Confusion filled her as he moved away, chuckling lightly. Milton had hated her for years, had been after her ever since she had left Slovakia. She never would have made it out of the country if it weren’t for Henry’s protection. True fear crept in as she realised Milton’s true intentions.

She had to admire his loyalty, even if it was misplaced.

Of course he wouldn’t kill her. No, he would send her back… and what awaited her there was far worse than death.

“Oh… can it be?” said Milton after a moment, the glee plain in his voice. Kat swallowed loudly as he moved back to kneel before her once more, a twisted expression of joy plastered on his features. “Ha! Oh, this is fantastic! You really thought I would kill you myself? Come, come, Ms Biekral. I can’t let you off that easy and you know it.

“You should have realised I’d send you back,” he continued, once again moving away from her with another chuckle. “There are some people who are just dying to get their hands on you again. Who am I to deny them justice, hmm?”

Kat’s blood ran cold, finding she was now wishing for him to kill her. She would face death with open arms if it meant never going back there. And if that was his intention… fuck no.

With no warning of her plan Kat threw all her weight backwards, effectively knocking the men behind her off their feet. Now free of their grasp she threw herself forward again, hands reaching for Milton’s throat. Milton stumbled back with a cry of alarm, but she never reached him. Before she’d taken four steps one of the men behind her hit her on the back of the head.

“Don’t kill her!” cried Milton as Kat hit the ground hard, blood already matting her hair. Her fingers came away red when she tenderly touched the sore spot, her vision blurring as her fingers seemed to multiply. A nine mil was pointed at her head when she was rolled onto her back, the three men standing over her with annoyed looks.

The one with the gun dropped when she swung her legs out, taking his feet out from underneath him. It wasn’t in her to give up, and she certainly wasn’t going back to Slovakia without a fight. Maybe if she pissed Milton off enough he would be forced to kill her instead. It was better than the alternative.

Suddenly Kat was being hauled to her feet, then her back was slammed into the wall, Milton’s grubby hands wrapped tightly around her throat. Panicked, Kat pulled and scratched at his hands, kicking her feet out as she felt herself slipping already. Dying was preferable to returning… but that didn’t mean she wanted to die.

“Zachariah,” muttered one of his men quietly, his voice sounding so far away to Kat’s ears. Darkness crept into the corners of her sight, her head throbbing from where she’d been hit. Just as she swore this was the end, Milton released her. She slipped down the wall to the floor, gasping in as much air as she could and fighting to stay conscious.

She didn’t care to think what these men would do if she was knocked out cold.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, Ms Biekral,” growled Milton as Kat slumped against the wall, her body screaming. She could barely see as Milton’s men left the room, leaving him staring down at her in disgust. “And trust me when I say, what you did to your parents will be nothing compared to what you’ll suffer when we get you back home.”

Katka had passed out from the pain before he locked the door.

**

When she woke next it was to a scratchy, staticky sound that seemed somehow out of place. The wall behind her, the back of her shirt, and the floor were stained with dried blood, but her head didn’t hurt as much as it had earlier. Slowly, carefully lest she find something else that hurt, Kat lifted her head and looked around.

The projector embedded in the wall beside her had switched on. Frowning, Kat turned to the far wall, eyeing the static image carefully. She could see someone faintly through the fuzz, could hear a slightly distorted voice trying to break through.

“Is it working…?” Those three words came through clear, the rest of the sentence drowned out by another round of static. But they still had Katka pushing herself to her knees in disbelief.

“Sam…”

What on Earth was he doing? He was supposed to be on his way out of New York by now! As the image cleared and revealed what was beneath, Kat gasped and forced herself to her feet despite the pain. Someone spoke off camera, and she instantly recognised Ellen’s voice.

What are they doing?! 

“Hi,” said Sam rather awkwardly, hazel eyes burning right into the camera, like he could see her. “My name is Sam Winchester. I know you’re scared right now. I know you’ve probably lost people you love, people you care about. It’s only going to get worse. You won’t know me, have no reason to trust me. But I beg of you to listen to what I have to say.”

“You bloody fool,” she whispered, recognising the clubhouse meeting room behind him. The way the image kept threatening to fade out made her think this was a live-stream. He was telling Milton, and everyone else who wanted him dead, exactly where he was!

“… scare us,” continued Sam over the hologram. His voice was rising, getting more and more passionate the longer he spoke. “Yesterday morning, over one hundred men and women walked into Midtown with the intent to kill as many people as they could. To create as much panic as they could. They attacked hospitals, they attacked theatres and cafes, they even attacked schools. These people don’t care, and they’re not going to stop.”

Kat missed the next part of Sam’s speech as the connection broke, his image fading for a few minutes. In the silence left behind Kat thought she heard screams from below. The building shook slightly as Sam’s image returned.

“…time to fight back! Are you going to hide in the shadows and let these people kill your family, your friends? Or are you going to step up and take back what is rightfully yours! New York isn’t a battle-ground for gang members, it is a home for your children! New York belongs to you, and its time you took it back!”

“Well, well, well,” mused Kat in wonder, a new-found respect for Sam building within her. “Good for you, Winchester. You’re more like Henry than I gave you credit for.”

“Stand up, fight for your freedom,” continued Sam, his voice returning to normal as he calmed himself down. Despite her situation, Kat couldn’t help but smile. “Freedom is ours! Step up and t-”

While obvious Sam meant to say more, Katka didn’t hear it as the image went black. She lost her footing when the building shook again, but this time she heard it, too. An explosion had gone off nearby. Judging by the screams she could now hear, Katka guessed the GT clubhouse was under attack.

The click was barely heard over the commotion as Sam appeared back on screen. He was shouting now, but Katka paid no attention to what he said. Whatever was happening outside had messed with the electronic lock on her cell door. As soon as she realised she was free she was out into the hall.

Her first instinct was to find the quickest way out before she was caught again. However as the building shook and she stumbled into the wall a few paces down, a call for help caught her attention and had her turning back.

Dean.

Moving quickly, Kat rushed back the other way, pressing against each door she passed. Most of them opened with ease, the electronic locks having failed for whatever reason. She found the two who had escorted her here behind the third door she checked, both already dead.

Ash and Wally were good men, and she hated the fact that she had gotten them killed.

Forcing herself to remain calm and keep her emotions in check, Kat quickly raided the room for any weapons. She found a knife and an empty Beretta, snatching up both just in case. While the gun might be empty, she was hoping it would scare anyone who didn’t have one. If she was really lucky she might even find some bullets for it.

“Hey!” came a rough call as she tucked the Beretta into the waistband of her jeans. Kat turned quickly, knife raised, only to realise the call came from the room beside her. After checking the hallway was still clear, Kat ran to the next door and kicked it open.

Dean hung from his wrists in the middle of the room, looking much like he had on the video. She easily recognised the hatred in his eyes and decided to tread carefully. He didn’t speak a word as she approached, hands held up in surrender.

“I know you know who I am,” she said softly, keeping her tone and expression as non-threatening as possible. Her heart-rate sped up as the building trembled yet again; her time was quickly running out. “I also know you probably want to kill me right now. Unfortunately for you, I’m your best bet at getting out of here and seeing Sam again. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he all but spat out after a moment, and Kat moved forward hesitantly. When he didn’t lash out at her she reached up to unclasp his restraints. He groaned as she gently lowered him to the ground, the sound of voices reaching her ears.

“Shit,” she cursed as she realised people were coming for them. Dean was in no condition to fight, and they’d see if she got up and shut the door. Kat put herself between Dean and the still open door, blade raised, holding her breath as she waited…

Next thing she knew the ground was rushing to meet her face again before everything went black.


	18. Ghosts and Dead Men

The first explosion made him jump, even though he had been expecting it. He squeezed his eyes shut as screams filled the air, mingled with the groans of the dying. Sam swallowed thickly as he looked up, meeting Benny’s eyes. As if he could read his mind, Benny smiled sadly.

“Not your fault, Chief,” he said quietly, reaching out with his free hand to lightly pat Sam’s knee. “These people chose the wrong side, that’s all. They killed hundreds of innocent people just ‘cause they could. They’d kill you, too, given the chance. Whatever they get now, its what they deserve.”

“I know,” replied Sam just as quietly, double checking his watch before glancing back up with a resigned sigh. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

More blasts were heard, along with the obvious sound of gunfire. Every explosion had him flinching slightly. He should be in there. Should be fighting. It was his instinct, and he really didn’t like sitting around doing nothing while others fought and died for him.

“It’s stable, go,” came Gabriel’s voice over the little wire around his ear. Charlie and Jo were good, but in the end it was Gabriel who managed to break through the Valley’s protective measures. If he said the connection was finally stable, Sam was going to believe him. He’d already seen his face on many projector screen as they’d passed through the city.

They’d recorded four separate videos which Charlie and Jo had edited together to form one seamless broadcast. Sam had felt like the biggest fool in the word with some of the things he had said. Especially the first time around. However the others assured him it was good, and by the last recording he was starting to believe it himself.

Without another word Sam nodded, leaning to the side a little to make sure the others could see him. Every single one of the people with him had volunteered for this, but he still didn’t like it. He didn’t have a choice though; it was accept their help or lose Dean and Kat for good.

At his nod, his group rose and started moving forward.

They kept low, crouching behind buildings and cars when they could, running across the open spaces when they couldn’t.

It had taken them damn near six hours, but Multitude had finally broken through into Ghost Town territory. Sam had been pleasantly surprised to find a few of the gangs Kat, and Henry before her, had dismantled didn’t entirely hate them for it. Quite a few of them were more than willing to help take GT out. With the DDP and the Harlem Boys, plus Blood Money coming in from the north, Sam was confident they could succeed.

So far his plan was working out as he’d hoped. They hadn’t lost anywhere near as many people as he’d expected. Only, now they were entering the most dangerous part of his plan, and even he wasn’t naive enough to think they’d all make it out alive.

After being told Dead Man Incorporated had taken Midtown, Sam had been expecting more resistance. They’d pulled back into Osmin’s districts instead, taken advantage of DDP’s absence. Osmin hadn’t been too pleased when he’d learned his clubhouse had been taken. Most of DMI were on the wrong side of Central Park, leaving only Ghosts to guard the Valley.

They’d deal with the Ghosts, first, then work out how to handle the Dead Men.

They were about two blocks from the clubhouse when they were found. Sam took two down without blinking. The others quickly followed them, with none of Sam’s group having been hit thankfully. Once the way was clear he moved forward again, keeping his purpose in mind.

Find Dean. Find Kat. Evacuate any civilians you find. Find Dean. Find Kat. Evacuate any civilians you find. Find Dean… 

He’d told everyone the same thing, although with them he had put the civilians first. There were small groups within groups with the sole intent of guiding any survivors to safety. Or to capture prisoners. A previous scout group had declared the Valley free of civilian presence, but they hadn’t been able to check many buildings without being caught.

One block out from the clubhouse and they hit a roadblock. Sam cursed his luck as the others studied the newly erected wall-slash-fence type structure. Corrugated steel made up most of this side, making climbing the thing impossible. Sam wouldn’t even be able to reach the top if he stood on Benny’s shoulders, and he could see the thick, heavy bolts holding it to the walls either side.

“Try the door,” he said when he noticed it near the corner. Two of his group converged on the door as the others fanned out around them in a protective half-circle.

Unfortunately the door wasn’t plugged into the electrical grid, meaning his broadcast wouldn’t interrupt the signal keeping it locked. And they couldn’t try another route; most would be swamped with fighting, where the other groups were keeping the Ghosts distracted.

A quick shot fired from Andy’s blaster proved the steel had been treated, and Sam’s hope of completing his plan quickly all but sputtered out.

Feeling frustrated as one of the women then began picking the old-fashioned lock, Sam growled and ran his hand through his hair. He turned as he then ran one hand down his face. Then he froze, his eyes connecting with a young woman watching him from a nearby window.

The woman nodded when she had his attention, then brought two fingers up to her eyes. With those same fingers she then pointed off down the street. Sam turned further, spotting a camera on the closest corner aimed right at them. Realising the woman thought GT could still see them Sam nodded and moved closer.

“Can you hear me?” he called over the nearby shots and through the glass. The woman nodded. “Can you get out? We’re blocking all signals into the Valley, they can’t see or hear you.”

“I’m locked in,” she shouted back, pointing behind her. Sam stepped closer to peer inside, noticing she was in an old fashioned cell of some sorts. The door required a key, much like the one keeping them from their goal.

He didn’t think twice.

“Get back,” he called, gesturing for her to move aside as he brought his blaster around and pointed it at the window. It was large enough for her to climb out of, if the glass wasn’t treated. It wasn’t, thankfully, and Benny was quick to help the woman climb out once the glass had finished melting.

“What’s your name?” asked Sam gently, keeping his tone soft to not scare the poor woman. She couldn’t have been any older than twenty, her eyes wide and hands shaking as she glanced down the street.

“L-Laura,” she replied shakily, eyes darting everywhere as if afraid someone would find her. Sam smiled softly.

“Benson, Harper!” he called. Almost immediately the two he’d called rushed over, weapons ready. “This is Laura. Laura, these are some friends of mine. They’ll take you some place safe, okay?”

Benson and Harper took off with Laura just as one of the others called to him from the door. It was open, and Sam rushed over without looking back. He didn’t stop to think about why Laura had been there. He was solely focused on finding and rescuing Dean and Kat.

The clubhouse was right in front of them now, just across the street. People were screaming all over, the Ghosts being pushed back by Sam’s people on all sides. They were supposed to pull them away from the clubhouse, not push them back towards it.

Nothing else was said as all hell broke loose. Explosions were going off every couple of minutes, and the endless shooting was making Sam’s ears ring uncomfortably. He lost track of most of his group as he moved through the mess, taking down anyone he recognised as the enemy. If they stuck to the plan, he’d see them at the clubhouse anyway.

At one point he swore he heard Osmin calling orders, but he didn’t have time to look. He took down a woman aiming at Benny’s back, before grabbing the man himself and hauling him towards the now abandoned front doors of the GT clubhouse. Hopefully the fighting had drawn out those inside.

Bodies lined the clubhouse stairs as he and Benny rushed up them, keeping low to avoid being hit by a stray bullet or blast. Sam slipped about halfway up, landing heavily next to a body he unfortunately recognised.

“Ellen!” he called hysterically, forgetting his goal for the moment. With how pale she looked, Sam had assumed she was already dead. However at his call her eyes popped open and found him, more alert than he would have expected given the wounds on her chest and left leg.

“M’fine,” she slurred, shaking her head as she struggled to swallow. “Find them. I’ll b’fine.”

“Go, I got ‘er,” said Benny, carefully helping Ellen to her feet. He put his shoulder under her arm once she was standing, letting her rest her weight on him. “Go!”

Sam didn’t waste any more time. People he didn’t know joined him as he pushed for the doors, only to be forced back as more shots rang out. Bullets peppered the front doors until they literally fell apart, and Sam was glad to see the three that followed him hadn’t been hit. They all stared at him, as if waiting for his command. He couldn’t see anyone from his original group.

Peeking around the corner, Sam had a clear line on at least one of the shooters. He brought his blaster up, only to pull back quickly as more shots came his way. He cursed and moved further away when the wall cracked under the force of a blaster shell.

A roar filled Sam’s ears and he turned to see Roger from the Harlem Boys, charging up the steps with a rapid-fire blaster. The sound was terrible, and he swore he would go deaf if Roger came any closer. As soon as he stopped firing Sam stood and joined him by what remained of the front doors.

“Let’s go kill sum Ghosts,” said Roger all too gleefully, storming off into the building without another word. Sam sighed as he followed, surprised and a little annoyed to see Stefan rush up to join him. The others had rushed off to re-join the fighting at the bottom of the stairs.

“You’re meant to be securing the streets,” he said as they jogged past the mangled remains of the men guarding the entrance. Stefan grunted as they sped up, lured by the sounds of Roger’s blaster.

“She’s my cousin. You’re a fool if you thought I’d stay back.”

Sam hadn’t honestly believed he would stay away, so he didn’t bother arguing about it. He had been more surprised that Stefan had accepted his plan when he’d first mentioned it.

They encountered five more bodies that were no longer recognisable thanks to Roger’s RFB, but the man himself had already moved on. It was easy to tell which way he went; Sam could hear him calling out for them to ‘come and get me you sonsabitches!’

Stefan tapped his shoulder and nodded towards a stairwell. “While he’s got them distracted.”

Sam could have laughed at Stefan’s tone if they weren’t in such a serious situation.

They were just about to start heading down when the door opened again behind them and another man Sam didn’t recognise stepped through. Sam brought his weapon up immediately, Stefan doing the same beside him.

“Don’t shoot!” cried the man, dropping his gun on the ground before lifting his hands in surrender. Neither Sam nor Stefan backed down, ordering the man up against the wall. The ghost tattooed on the back of his right hand told them he was a GT member. Sam quickly checked through the door to make sure there weren’t any more waiting, finding the hall outside clear.

“Who are you?” demanded Stefan, gun placed at the back of the man’s neck.

“My name’s Gary,” replied the man quickly, the panic in his voice clear. “I saw your broadcast! Please, I want to help, just don’t shoot me! I-I can tell you where your brother is! I-I can help!”

Stefan growled, but stepped back and glanced over at Sam. Despite clearly not liking Sam being in charge, Stefan continued to bow to him when it came to major decisions. The look on his face screamed ‘let me shoot him’, but Sam shook his head and made him step back more. If this Gary knew where Dean and Kat were what harm could it cause?

“Show me.”

Without hesitation Gary started rushing up the steps two at a time. Sam followed quickly, Stefan between them, gun still trained on the back of Gary’s head. He stopped on the seventh floor, holding one finger to his lips before gesturing for them to stay back. Gun ready in case this was some kind of trap, Sam let Gary step out into the hall on his own. When he cried out a few seconds later, Sam burst through the door with his gun raised.

Gary lay bleeding on the floor, blade sticking out of his neck as he coughed weakly. Sam barely saw him as he made eye contact with his killer.

“Dean!”

“Sam?” Dean seemed more surprised than relieved to see Sam as he threw his arms around his older brother. After a moment Dean’s arms came up, too, but the hug was brief before the building shook once more. “What the hell is going on?”

“Long story,” mumbled Sam, glancing over at Stefan. He had to stop Dean from killing him. “No, Dean, he’s on our side! Come on, we gotta find Kat and then we can get out.”

Stefan took off down the hall as Dean grabbed Sam’s arm, pulling him back towards the stairwell. He looked like he was ready to pass out at any second, adrenaline the only thing keeping him going. Sam helped him steady himself on the wall, torn between helping Dean and going to find Kat.

“Kat?” growled Dean as he panted heavily, hands braced on his knees. “Please tell me you don’t mean who I think you do.”

“Dean, I promise, I will explain everything as soon as we’re out of danger, okay?” said Sam, trying to keep his patience. He heard Stefan call out a moment later, turned to see him disappearing into a side room. Sam glanced back at Dean and shot him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry I lied. I’ll explain it all soon, just… trust me a little longer?”

Thankfully Dean agreed as the clubhouse shook again, but this time it didn’t stop. The walls groaned, the floor beneath them began to tilt dangerously, and Sam realised the building was on the verge of collapse. Stefan came rushing back to them with a pale and bloody Kat in his arms, and Sam’s heart leapt into this throat.

Not a word was said as they made their way back downstairs as quickly as possible. People met them on the ground floor, no way to know if they were friend or foe. Sam didn’t even pause as he helped Dean towards the front doors, relaxing a little when the newcomers formed a protective barrier around them. Roger was amongst them, shooting Sam a wild smile as he practically bounced alongside. Sam grimaced when he saw the bloody fingers the man carried.

Somehow, their group made it outside just as the building was hit again. They moved as fast as they possibly could, a few of the men moving to help Sam carry a now unconscious Dean. Thankfully when the building went down, it fell the opposite way.

Sam didn’t let himself look at the bodies they passed as they made their escape. He didn’t stop to think about the fact that he hadn’t found Milton. Nor did he pause to consider who of his friends wouldn’t meet him back at the clubhouse. All he could care about as they reached the edge of the Valley, where the cars were still waiting, was the fact that he had done it.

He’d saved Dean, and Kat, and in that moment that was all that mattered.


	19. The Pretender

Sam sighed as he stopped in the middle of the road, heart heavy in his chest. He surveyed the scene before him with a lump in his throat, desperate to keep his tears at bay. Part of him felt like he had no right to cry; he hadn’t known these people after all.

The streets were lined with bodies, with more being brought in by the hour. The assault on Ghost Town had been successful, but it had cost them. Too many lives had been lost, even more than Sam had been prepared for.

To make matters worse, fighting was starting outside of Manhattan, too. Roosevelt Island had officially sided with DMI, reinstating the Syndicate’s words and colours in the process. Brooklyn was falling apart, with just under half of the districts revolting against Multitude leadership. Communications with Staten Island failed two hours ago, and no one knew exactly what was happening in Queens and the Bronx.

Manhattan itself was divided. While he had lead Multitude into the Valley District, DMI had secured their control of DDP’s territory. On top of that, they had snuck into Blood Money territory while the majority of their forces were in the Valley.

Osmin was furious, as was Aaron. Sam couldn’t exactly blame them for their rage, either. They’d lost everything to help him, to save his brother and their enemy. He could feel the rage boiling off Osmin as they walked down the street side by side, neither of them speaking.

Sam’s only consolation was that none of his closest circle had been killed. None of the people he considered family. Ellen had been hurt badly and lost a ton of blood, but thanks to Benny getting her out of harm’s way she would survive. Sam had ordered her on bed-rest until she was fully healed.

As soon as Charlie had seen Jo, limping slightly and covered in blood that was not her own, she had screeched and thrown herself at the blonde. It seemed whatever had happened between them wasn’t enough to break the love they felt for each other. Last he had seen, the two women were disappearing into one of the clubhouse apartments to sleep.

Cas had been furious when they’d reached the medical wing. He had started screaming at Sam for leaving him behind as soon as he’d entered the room. It wasn’t until Benny and two other officers carried Dean in that Cas stopped shouting. Despite the still healing wound near his knee, Cas had jumped from his bed and taken the seat right by Dean’s side.

Less than half an hour after returning, Dean had woken with a cry. It had taken almost two hours to convince him of the truth, Sam wishing he’d bothered to grab the footage Osmin had. Two hours to calm him down. It would have been easier, had Benny not let it slip that Sam was technically still in charge of Multitude. The look Dean had thrown Sam then was enough to make his knees shake.

He hadn’t been to see Kat yet. Dean had pretty much dismissed him after their talk, and instead of going to check on her he had headed outside with Osmin and Aaron. Only to find what a mistake that was.

The dead seemed to taunt him.

You did this. You killed us.

No. He didn’t do this, Milton had. Milton and Ghost Town, and DMI, they were the ones who did this. They started it, he was simply doing what he could to end it. End it before more lives were lost. Ellen had seen Milton’s helicopter take off moments before she had been shot, less than ten minutes before Sam had found her. He thought it weird he hadn’t noticed it himself, but he’d had other things on his mind at the time.

“We’re gonna make them pay, brother,” said Osmin after a while, his tone hard and unforgiving as he stared at the bodies before them. Sam didn’t respond, letting his eyes drift to the people further down the street, still mourning their dead. To his surprise, several of them nodded their heads when he met their gaze, with a couple of others actually saluting him.

Sam didn’t feel like he deserved it.

“I’m sorry I dragged you and your people into this,” he muttered, unable to look at either of the leaders beside him. Others considered him a leader, too, now. Sam didn’t. He knew nothing next to the men either side of him.

They were leaders… he was just a pretender.

“You didn’t drag us into this war,” said Aaron to his left. Sam risked a glance up to find the Blood Money leader watching him closely. “For decades our predecessors considered each other enemies, and they paid for it in blood. Times are changing, Winchester, and its time we changed with them.”

“He’s right,” added Osmin before Sam could speak. He watched Sam closely, too. “Yesterday we were enemies. And now?” Sam caught himself holding his breath as Osmin sized him up, tongue running along his top teeth behind his lips. “Now I’m glad to call you brother. Whatever happens next, DDP got your back.”

“Same with Bloody Money, both here and in Queens,” put in Aaron quickly. “You swear you’ll help us reclaim our territories… then my resources, my people are yours. For as long as you need them.”

And despite the carnage around them, despite the losses they’d suffered and the threat that still loomed over their heads… despite it all, Sam found his heart filling with hope.

**||**

The clubhouse was eerily silent as he walked the halls down to her personal rooms. He hadn’t considered it before, but apparently her apartment in Midtown was faked. Probably why she hadn’t offered to take him to her room; there probably hadn’t even been a bed through the door he’d seen.

A man Sam vaguely recognised, Ethan he thought his name was, stood guard outside Katka’s doors. It wasn’t like he was needed there, but Sam hadn’t argued when Stefan had ordered it. So many people had come back with them it was impossible to tell if they were all friendly. Milton could have been sneaky enough to get a spy amongst their ranks, there was no way to tell for sure.

Ethan eyed him as he approached, but didn’t say a word as he pushed open the door for him. Sam nodded but didn’t smile as he passed into the room beyond.

Katka was fast asleep on a plush, king-sized bed. She looked tiny buried in those black silk sheets, yet somehow still as intimidating as ever. Not even a near-death experience could take that fierceness from her, even while she was unconscious. She still looked like she could wake at any moment and tear the whole building down, brick by brick, with her bare hands.

Benjamin, who had been sitting beside her bed when Sam walked in, stood quickly. His hands clenched into fists as he glared up at Sam, but he said nothing. Sam swallowed audibly before he spoke.

“You should get that seen too,” he said, gesturing to Benjamin’s left arm. His shoulder looked wrong, as if it had been dislocated, and there was a massive gash that ran from his elbow up to disappear beneath the sleeve of his shirt. The cut was still bleeding ever so slightly, and the pool of it beneath where he’d been sitting told Sam he’d been there for a while. Probably ever since Kat had been brought in.

“Is that an order?” growled Ben lightly, his gaze hard. Sam sighed.

“What would she say?” he asked instead of answering, jerking his head in Kat’s direction. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he waited for an answer. Benjamin glared at him a moment longer before he sighed, shoulders dropping as he turned back to her bed.

The silence dragged on and on, until Sam grew tired of standing. He didn’t bother trying to make Benjamin leave.

Without a word he moved to take the seat on the other side, eyes now locked on Kat. He’d been given a list of her wounds but had no desire to see them for himself. Nor did he want to learn what she had suffered in her captivity. The bandage around her head was already slowly turning a dark reddish brown.

Benjamin eventually sat again, not once looking over at Sam. After another moment he reached up with his good arm and took the hand on top of the covers. When Sam looked over properly, he wasn’t surprised to see the tears in Ben’s eyes. Sam’s heart clenched with pain at what he saw there.

“He’ll try again,” said Benjamin eventually. He still didn’t look away from Kat. “Milton, he’ll try again. He won’t stop. Not until he gets her. And now you’ve defeated him once he’ll want your blood, too.”

“Then we’ll just have to defeat him again,” said Sam. Benjamin finally looked up.

“We? Thought you’d run now you got your family back.” He wasn’t the only one who thought as much.

“Freedom is ours,” whispered Sam, meeting Benjamin’s eyes with a blank expression. “Freedom is ours. To you, that might just mean the people you care about. To me, those words apply to every citizen in New York. In the world. And as long as men like Milton run the show, freedom is unattainable.

“Do you know why I joined the force after my parents died?” he asked. Benjamin shook his head no. “It’s not because I wanted to avenge them. I did want to, but that’s not why I joined. I joined to free the people of New York from their oppressors. I’m not running, and I will not hide. Not until Milton and anyone who thinks themselves better than everyone else is dead. Not until every man, woman, and child in this city can utter those words, our words, and mean them.”

To his slight shock, Benjamin snorted and shook his head. “You sound like her,” he said, jerking his chin in Kat’s direction. “And your grandfather.”

“You knew him?” Sam had thought Benjamin too young to have known Henry Winchester at all. Apparently he was wrong.

“I knew him,” nodded Benjamin slowly. “Not as well as Bobby or Kat. But I knew him. My grandfather was head of Combat 18 when they were taken out. Henry spared my life, and my fathers, and offered me a place in Multitude. Even when his second and third were urging him to kill me. He avoided killing whenever he could. He was a good man.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” replied Sam quietly. His heart ached for the grandfather he’d never known. “Everyone keeps telling me he was a good man. Hopefully I can live up to his name.”

“You already are,” said Benjamin without looking up. Sam stayed quiet, unsure what to make of this change of attitude. “You got her back. I didn’t think you would even try when you realised she played you.”

“You love her.” It wasn’t a question. Sam had already worked out how Benjamin felt for Kat, he didn’t need the man to confirm it with words. But still, Benjamin nodded slowly as a tear slipped from his eye.

“Yeah,” answered Benjamin, his voice raspy. He coughed before he continued. “Yes, I love her. It doesn’t matter what she does, what she came from. I will love her until my dying breath. Even though she’ll never love me back.”

Sam didn’t say anything to that. What could he say? No one had confirmed it, but from everything he’d been told Sam knew who Kat truly loved. He’d seen it himself, the few times she had mentioned him. Seen the love she bore for his grandfather, Henry. A part of him couldn’t help but wonder if Henry had ever loved her the same way…

The woman herself woke under twenty minutes later. Neither Benjamin nor Sam spoke as they waited. As soon as she stirred Sam was up and telling Ethan to fetch the club doctor. By the time he made it back to her bedside her eyes were open. The first words out of her mouth had Sam stepping back in confusion.

“You idiots.” Her voice was scratchy and low, but he still heard her clearly. He shared a glance with Benjamin.

“Excuse me?” he asked gently just as the door opened again. The club doctor walked in, closely followed by Stefan and, surprisingly, Charlie.

“Do you know where you are, Katka?” asked the doctor, literally pushing Sam aside to get to her. He moved willingly, more interested in her getting help than anything else. Unfortunately Kat all but ordered the doctor to get away from her.

“I’m fine, and yes, I know where I am,” she then snapped, pushing herself into a sitting position. It was clear the movement hurt, but not a whimper escaped her lips. Sam took another step back when she fixed him with a hard glare. “You’re an idiot and a fool. You should have run when you had the chance.”

“That’s the thanks I get for saving your life?” Sam asked a little more harshly than he’d intended. Charlie and the doctor both flinched at his tone, and Benjamin gave a small warning growl. Kat didn’t even blink.

“My life is not worth more than the lives you lost getting to me,” she answered without missing a beat. “How many did you lose to get me back? How many people died just to save my life?”

“We lost sixty-four people,” said Stefan, his tone and expression devoid of emotion. “Thirty-six of those were Multitude members. And every one of them volunteered to get you back. Every. Single. One.”

Kat blinked, her lips parting slightly as her eyes finally left Sam to land on Stefan. After a second they slid across to Charlie, who nodded, then over to Benjamin. “I don’t understand…”

“We followed your orders,” said Benjamin, his voice almost too soft to hear. Kat frowned. “You told us to follow the Winchesters, so we did.”

“Sam convinced the Dominicans to help us,” added Stefan, making Kat’s eyes widen again as she turned to Sam.

“Blood Money, too,” put in Charlie, a soft smile on her lips. “He even convinced some civilians to fight with us. More are arriving by the hour, all of them asking to join our cause.”

Sam didn’t say anything about Charlie’s choice of words as Katka stared at him in shock. He offered her a small smile, and she finally shook her head and looked away. For a brief moment, Sam could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes. They were gone when she looked back up at him.

“I was supposed to protect you,” she said, only a hint of agitation in her voice. “I swore I would protect you and Dean. I never thought you would have done the same for me.” She nodded once, averting her eyes as she shifted uncomfortably. “Thank you. For saving me.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied gently, unsure what else to say. The silence that followed was so awkward it took all his self-control to not run from the room. Instead he cleared his throat and glanced at the foot of her bed. “The, uh… the clubs yours again. I did what I could, but-”

“The club was never mine,” interrupted Kat with a raised hand. Pain briefly crossed her features as she sat a little higher, idly brushing off Benjamin’s worried hands. “I was only keeping the seat warm for a while. Multitude belongs to the Winchesters. If you don’t want to keep the seat, then it goes to Bobby, like it was supposed to.”

When I died, she didn’t need to add. Sam swallowed as he digested her words, quickly realising this had been her plan all along. To give Multitude back. After a moment he nodded, feeling an odd sense of relief. Everyone in the room seemed to watch him, as if to ask what their next move would be. He nodded again.

He wouldn’t be a pretender anymore.


	20. Freedom is Ours

It took four days for Dean to stop scowling at every person he passed in the hallways. The armoury had been locked for fear of Dean finding it and going on a rampage. Sam had even gone as far as to ask all Multitude members to keep their guns and blasters under lock and key. Just in case.

Personally, he was sick of seeing Dean’s dour expression every damn day. Of course, he didn’t say anything about it; Dean was perfectly within his rights to be upset.

The day Dean stopped treating everyone in Multitude like they were evil incarnate, Sam found him in the meeting room near the back. Mugshots of club members lined one wall, with group photos taken once a year since the foundation of People Nation covering the other. Sam found Dean standing before the group photo taken in 2017, the year their mom and dad were officially beaten in. Even then it was clear Mary and John had loved each other.

“They look so happy,” said Dean quietly as Sam approached. His tone held none of the malice or anger he’d heard in the last few days, thankfully. Sam nodded as he stopped beside his brother, hands stuffed in his pockets. He’d studied this particular photo at length during his time here, along with the others.

Some faces he recognised alongside his parents; others he only knew thanks to stories told by the older members.

“Because they believed in what they were trying to accomplish,” replied Sam carefully. While he hadn’t spoken to Dean about their situation since the day he’d been rescued, Sam had heard the arguments ringing through the halls more than once. Gabriel still bore the shiny red mark on his cheekbone from his last encounter with Dean, and Bobby claimed he hadn’t been to see him once in the last four days.

Sam tensed, ready for another argument, when Dean sighed heavily beside him. He risked a glance over at his older brother, partly wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation, partly wishing Dean would hurry up and get over it. Because he needed Dean, as much as he didn’t want to admit it out loud. He might have some valuable insight Sam and the others could have overlooked. Might come up with a better idea.

Mostly he was hoping Dean would decide he should be in charge. If things had been different, it would have been Dean who took over eventually, anyway.

“I really didn’t want to believe it, you know,” said Dean suddenly. He didn’t look over, he didn’t even blink as he stared up at their parents faces. “I didn’t want to believe they’d lied to me. To us. I didn’t want to think they were…”

He didn’t have to finish for Sam to know what he meant. Hesitantly he reached up and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean finally turned to look at him.

“They were going to tell us,” he admitted softly. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Sam continued before he could. “Bobby told me. He was there the day Mom and Dad agreed to tell us the truth. They were going to tell you first, then wait until I was ten to tell me, too.”

“I was twelve when they died,” growled Dean.

“But the Harlem War started two months before your tenth birthday,” said Sam, fighting to keep his cool. He needed Dean to understand. Even if he didn’t take over, even if he decided to leave New York rather than fight… Sam needed him to understand at least. “We were moved into Midtown with Bobby, and they didn’t have the time to sit down with either of us. Bobby still would have told us the truth, if mom’s dad hadn’t died and left the club to Henry. He was the one who told everyone to keep their distance, to keep it a secret. To keep us safe.”

Sam could see Dean wanted to continue arguing, but he could also see the cogs turning in his head. His anger had dimmed enough to let him think about it, just like Sam when he’d first been told. Although, Sam hadn’t been given the luxury of four days to think it all through like Dean. And he no longer had the time to let Dean stew further.

“I know you don’t like it,” pushed Sam when Dean didn’t speak again. “I know it feels like it goes against everything we were raised to believe. But if you stop and really think… if you just listen, you’ll discover Multitude is everything we were raised to believe. Just like People Nation was back then.”

It hadn’t taken long for Sam to realise that for himself. He’d spent the last four days talking to various members, learning exactly what it was that Multitude did to earn their way. He’d assumed it was all illegal stuff like drugs and prostitution.

While they did deal in illegal weapons, the only drug Katka ever permitted in Multitude territory was weed or mushrooms, and Multitude made no money off the drugs themselves. Drug dealers in the area paid a small protection fee, if they chose to, and that was it.

There were also prostitutes living in the area, but Multitude didn’t take money off them, either. From what Sam heard, Katka always ensured those who chose that life were always well cared for. None of them worked for anyone but themselves, and only because they wanted to. Anyone who felt the need to fall into that business due to money issues was looked after by the club so they didn’t have to.

Most of Multitude’s income came from multiple businesses owned and run by the club itself. Aside from the guns, which Sam was actually thankful for given their situation, Multitude also earned by offering protection to families and other businesses. The outlaw status dumped on the club by the council meant they couldn’t register legally, otherwise they were pretty much a business in their own right.

“How can you trust them?” asked Dean after a few more moments of silence. “They’re all liars and criminals.”

“I trust them because they have proven they’re trustworthy,” retorted Sam, his patience slipping quickly. Dean turned to look at him again, but he didn’t say a word. “I mean it, Dean. Everyone in this clubhouse risked their lives for us, some of them twice. When we came for you in the Valley, it was a volunteer only mission and I had to force people to stay behind. Whether you trust them or not, these people are good people, Dean. All they want is freedom.”

“You believe that?” pushed Dean. His expression was hard, but Sam could see his arguments crumbling. “I mean come on, Sam! You honestly believe these people are trying to do the right thing? How do you know KB doesn’t just want to destroy the world?”

It was a fair question, Sam supposed. One he had considered himself at length. However with everything he had learnt, all he had discovered about Multitude, and Katka herself… Sam knew that wasn’t the case.

“Our Grandfather trusted her,” he said with a shrug. “Bobby trusts her. Even if they didn’t… you just have to look at the stats since she took over to know that’s not what Kat wants.”

Sam moved to the table as he spoke, heading for the keyboard embedded near the main seat. Dean followed close on his heels. It only took Sam a matter of seconds to find what he was looking for; statistics on crime in Multitude owned territory.

“In every district she has claimed, crime rates have dropped over fifty percent,” he explained slowly, watching the frown appear on Dean’s face once more. He studied the stats closely, disbelief evident in his features. “Katka’s not destroying New York. She’s rebuilding it, re-shaping it into something better. Look, even Midtown has more crime than Chelsea, or any of the districts Multitude owns.”

“That’s not possible,” breathed Dean. Sam took a step back as Dean shook his head, glancing over his shoulder, towards the pictures of their parents. When he sighed, Sam found himself holding his breath. “I trust you, Sam.” While unexpected, Sam was relieved to hear it. “I don’t trust them… but I trust you. If you say they’re doing the right thing, then I believe you. And I understand… kind of.”

As soon as the words left Dean’s mouth, a sob of relief escaped Sam’s throat. He dropped into the main chair and put his head in his hands, breathing steadily to keep the tears at bay. Until then, he hadn’t realised just how much he needed his brother’s acceptance. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest; like he could breathe properly again.

“So…” started Dean after a while. Sam lifted his head to see he had taken the seat to his right, where Stefan usually sat when Katka was in charge. The look on his face was almost frightening. “What’s the plan?”

Sam smiled. He knew that tone. The one his brother always got when he was determined to fix something. It didn’t matter if Dean didn’t trust the others yet, Sam knew that would come in time. He trusted Sam, trusted he knew what he was doing. Trusted that this was the right path to make New York a safe place to live again.

“That is a very good question, Winchester,” came Kat’s voice before Sam could answer. Both he and Dean jumped and turned to the door. Sam quickly turned the hologram off.

Against doctors orders, Kat had been up and about the clubhouse every day since waking. She still moved slowly, but refused help whenever it was offered. Stefan had begged Sam to order her on bedrest, but Sam hadn’t done it. Despite her insistence he was now club leader, and his willingness to take this on, he still felt incredibly small next to her.

Which was saying a lot given her size.

To Sam’s surprise, Dean actually looked a little contrite as he glanced up at Katka. Likewise, Kat seemed wary as she moved into the room, keeping to the left side of the table and away from Dean. Stefan was behind her, Benjamin, Jo, Ellen, and Charlie coming in behind him. The door had barely swung shut when Osmin pushed it open again, some of his men with him. Aaron and a couple of Blood Money members came in next, with Gabriel, Ethan, Abi, and a number of civilians bringing up the rear.

Sam smiled when he spotted Laura, nodding his head slightly in her direction. He’d spoken to her, briefly, since the attack. She was the niece of one of Milton’s officers, held to ensure the man stayed in line. Harper stood to let Laura take his place at the table when he saw her.

Stefan shot a displeased glare at Dean sitting in his usual seat, but said nothing as he sat beside Kat, off to Sam’s left. No one said a word as people began to fill up the seats. So many had come in that some were forced to stand, but none offered a word of complaint. Sam didn’t miss the large space they left around Dean, as if they were all afraid he would snap again. He repressed his chuckle as he faced the people depending on him.

“Before we start, I would like to personally thank each and every one of you for the part you played in the rescue,” he began, attempting to look everyone in the eye as he spoke. He made certain he focused on the civilians the longest. “Especially you lot. I doubt we would have succeeded without you.

“I know a lot of you are hurting,” he continued, turning his thoughts to those they had lost. “I know most of you have lost someone, or come close to losing someone you love. And I know how much that hurts. I also know we’re going to lose more before this war is over.”

A few people nodded their heads at that, with others mumbling their agreement. It was a harsh truth, but Sam was grateful they had accepted it.

“We can’t let that deter us, though. Giving in now means letting those who would harm you win. It means handing over your freedom to people who don’t believe you deserve it. For years, the people of New York have lived under the constant threat of gang violence. Enough is enough.”

Again, murmurs of agreement went through the people gathered, this time a little louder than before.

“You saw my broadcast,” said Sam once the room went quiet again. “For many of you, that’s why you’re here, now. Because you know in your heart that things are wrong.”

“New York isn’t a battlegrounds for gangs,” said one of the civilians up the back. A direct quote from his broadcast days ago.

“It’s the home of our children,” added another, her voice filled with determination.

“New York belongs to us!” added one of Aaron’s men, jumping from his place at the table. A roar of agreement met his statement, with more members standing to join the civilians.

Sam did have another speech planned for this moment, but it all went out the window as someone started chanting. Within seconds the chant spread, until every single person in the hall was yelling it as loud as they could. Even Dean had joined in as Sam stood with the others, a strange sense of joy and hope building in the pit of his stomach as he listened to their cries…

“Freedom is ours! Freedom is ours! Freedom is ours!”


	21. Midtown

“Well,” sighed Sam as he dropped into the closest armchair heavily. “That was… interesting.”

Noises of agreement were made as he closed his eyes. He heard Dean drop into the chair beside him, heard Charlie or Cas or Kat, possibly two of them, move for the spare two-seater. None of them spoke for a while. There wasn’t much to say.

Once the room had settled down, Sam and the others had been able to get the start of a plan going. They were still a long way off having anything they could execute effectively, but something was better than nothing, he supposed. The fight with DMI would be tough… at least Abi had been able to give them some good news.

Ghost Town was officially gone.

The members who had been lucky enough to survive had disbanded and either fled the city or signed up as Dead Men. Apparently, Milton was hiding under the protection of DMI, but hadn’t been dubbed an officer, nor had he joined DMI in any official capacity. He was powerless… but still dangerous in his own, unpredictable way.

No one had tried to retake the Valley. Yet.

Sam was so tired. Everything ached, and it had been weeks since he’d slept the night through. He would have given anything to be able to lie down right then and go to sleep for a week, or more. Instead he settled for a solid two hours, after kicking everyone out of his personal suite.

The next few weeks continued in pretty much the same way. Every hour of his day was occupied with meetings, or training sessions, or weapons inspections. A couple of times he’d even taken on guard duty for a few hours, if only to escape the endless flock of people hounding him every second of the day. He ate his meals quickly and in silence, and only saw his own bed when someone pointed out he should sleep.

Their plan to take on DMI, or the ‘Kings of New York’, as they had dubbed themselves, was slowly coming together. Every day they learned new information that could help, or gained new allies with new tools. One of the gangs in Jersey had even agreed to sell them some military grade shields.

And it still wasn’t going to be enough.

But that didn’t mean Sam was going to give up.

Nearly a month after the fall of Ghost Town and Sam found himself alone with Kat for the first time since he discovered who she was. At first he hadn’t even noticed the others had drifted off to bed he was so exhausted.

“I want to thank you,” she said, bringing his eyes open. “Again I mean. For saving me. For a while there I was sure I was dead.”

“It’s what he would have wanted,” answered Sam dismissively. There was a soft smile on her lips that caught his interest, and he wasn’t so tired anymore. “When he told you to protect us, I don’t think he meant for you to give your life for us. I think he cared too much for you to ever want that.”

“Henry was a good man, and he cared for a lot of people,” she replied softly. Sam didn’t miss the meaning behind those words. He went to say something about it, but right then Katka looked up and held his gaze with her own. “But I would gladly give my life for you, Sam. You and Dean. While neither of you may ever trust me completely, you’re his blood. Besides Stefan… you’re the closest thing I have to family.”

Sam actually snorted.

“You don’t see it, do you?” he asked, already knowing her answer.

“See what?” she asked, a look of pure confusion on her face. He didn’t understand how she could have missed it.

“Kat, you have the biggest family in the world. If you go and talk to the people out there, who have lived and fought beside you for years… they love you. They would all die for you. Why do you think they followed you for so long?”

“Because they fear me.” The answer was said so matter-of-factly it gave Sam pause. There was no emotion behind it, not even a nugget of it buried in her eyes.

“Why would they fear you?” He had heard how cold and cruel she could sound if she wanted to, but it meant nothing. Sam, himself, had spoken that way many a time. Everything he learned about her had painted her as a fair and just leader. Katka frowned.

“Didn’t anyone tell you why Milton wants me so badly?” she asked, her frown deepening when he shook his head no. “And you didn’t ask?”

“I assumed it was because People Nation took him out back in the day,” answered Sam honestly, “that, or because you’re a woman and running a gang.”

“He wants to send me back,” she said, her voice so quiet Sam almost didn’t hear her. When he didn’t speak she glanced up, then sighed at the look on his face. “America isn’t the only country where gangs run everything. The government in Slovakia lost its power long before I was born. The country was run by a man named Martin, and his wife, Zuzanna.”

“I don’t understand,” started Sam slowly. He had no idea what any of that had to do with what they were talking about.

“They were the unofficial King and Queen of Slovakia… and my parents,” she said, her eyes on the wall behind him and unfocused. Sam sat back but didn’t say anything. He recalled her mentioning her parents were dead. And that she hadn’t had the best childhood. He repressed a shudder just as Kat shook her head and glanced back at him.

“They hated me from the moment I was born,” she continued, her tone taking on a dangerous, dark quality. “Their… employee’s told me the story. How my father went on a rampage when he was told I was a girl. They told me how he went to drown me in the river outside his mansion. If it weren’t for his advisors telling him he would lose favour with the people, he would have succeeded and I wouldn’t be here today. And they never let me forget how much they despised me.”

“Kat…” muttered Sam when she trailed off, unable to think of anything else to say. He reached for her hand, then waited for her eyes to meet his again. “I am so, so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said to his surprise. The smile she gave him next was truly terrifying, and it took all of his will-power to not pull away from her. “My parents and brothers might have used me for twelve years, but they got what was coming to them in the end.”

Again, Sam was left speechless. Kat laughed as she sat back in her chair.

“Everyone here knows the story of what I did to them. None of them even saw it coming. My brothers actually mocked me when I came for them. Thought the blood on my clothes was my own. Stefan was the only one I could trust, so once I dealt with the trash, I found him and we fled.”

“That’s when my grandfather came into the picture,” he mused softly, watching her closely for reactions. Almost immediately her eyes darted back to him, a soft smile crossing her lips.

“That’s when Milton came into the picture,” she corrected, only confusing Sam further. “He was my Fathers contact in the States. He brought the weapons my parents sold to the then leader of Ghost Town. He visited often, and he knew what they did to me. Sometimes he joined in. Sometimes he just watched.

“When my parents’ bodies were found, he immediately started accusing me. He’s hunted me ever since, would have caught me if it weren’t for your grandfather…” she paused for a moment, a frown pulling down her eyebrows as she looked away. “You know… I never found out how he knew about me.”

“You didn’t ask?” he inquired, drawing her attention once more.

“I didn’t trust him enough to ask in the beginning,” she said with a shrug. “And when I finally did start to trust him it just… didn’t come to mind.”

Silence consumed them for a few minutes as Sam contemplated everything she’d told him. He was a little surprised to find his opinion of her hadn’t dimmed at all. And he knew her well enough now to know she wouldn’t want his pity. While he didn’t condone what she had done, he knew she had her reasons.

“We seem to have gotten a bit side-tracked from my original statement,” he said to try and lighten the mood a little. And partly because he didn’t know what else to say. Kat turned back to him then, amusement dancing in her eyes. She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say a word the door to Sam’s quarters burst open.

“Sam, Sam!” Charlie cried as she rushed in, pure panic written across her features.

“Charlie, calm down,” he tried, his hands braced on Charlie’s shoulders. There were tears in her eyes as she gazed up at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “What happened? Charlie, is it Jo? What happened!?”

A choked sound escaped Charlie’s lips as Kat laid a hand on her back. And then Charlie broke down completely, collapsing into Sam’s arms as she sobbed into his chest. Sam thought the worst until he looked up towards the still open door in time to see Jo walk through.

“Charlie,” muttered Jo, moving forward to take the red-head from Sam’s arms. When it became clear neither woman would give him an explanation for Charlie’s behaviour, Sam turned to Ellen and Dean, both of whom stood in the door, watching with tired expressions.

It was Ellen who delivered the bad news.

“Midtown’s gone.”

**

They were right. Sam almost couldn’t believe it, but they were right. There was nothing left.

He had seen the flames burning bright on the horizon for himself. Heard the screams of those trying to flee the sudden destruction. According to those who had witnessed it for themselves the remaining buildings in Midtown had simply collapsed in on themselves one by one.

Under the cover of darkness the next night, Sam and a select few had dared venture into what was supposed to be the safest place in New York.

He still couldn’t believe it.

The entire stretch; from the Hudson River, all the way to the council chambers to the east. Everything had been destroyed, or burned to the ground. The world was ash and blackened, twisted metal each way he looked, save for the odd spots where the wreckage was still red with heat. Even Kat had shed a tear, although he doubted anyone else had noticed.

All those lives…

Rumour was DMI had intended to blame Multitude for the fires. Sam hadn’t heard about that until three days after, but it was too late. As soon as he had realised the magnitude of the destruction, Sam had sent out another broadcast. He made sure anyone who was still unsure about who to back knew exactly who had caused that damage. He made sure everyone knew who was to blame for those deaths.

Some had escaped the destruction in Midtown. Unsurprisingly, most of those survivors found their way to the Multitude clubhouse over the following week. Those who had escaped the worst of it had already vowed to help reclaim New York.

While the ruination of Midtown had distracted everyone for miles around, DMI had extended their reach into Brooklyn and Queens. Many had been forced to flee, or suffer the same fate. They, too, had found their way to Chelsea, and now stood prepared to take back their homes.

Even a majority of gangs in New Jersey had declared for Multitude in what was already being dubbed the biggest gang-land war America had ever seen. His ranks were growing once more… but Sam knew it still wasn’t enough. He needed more people if they were going to succeed.

So he found more.

Every woman who could fight had been put in training. Mostly how to handle weapons and such, but quite a lot of them had pushed for physical training. Sam had allowed it as soon as he had found out, having assumed they had already been doing that. It didn’t take them long to prove they were ready to take back New York.

Before long, the women he’d put to training were teaching the younger girls what they’d learned. Sam had tried to stop that. Fourteen and fifteen was far too young for something so dangerous; not even boys that young were allowed to fight. Even sixteen and seventeen was too young in Sam’s eyes.

They were still kids… and the same age his parents were when they first joined Multitude.

In the end he hadn’t been able to stop anything. The women claimed if their daughters were willing to fight, they should be given the chance. So, of course, the boys began joining in. Thankfully, Sam was able to restrict any training to those over the age of fifteen, at least.

Their enemies had destroyed Midtown hoping to demoralise him and those around him. All they had done was stir up a fire within them. All they’d done was make enemies of anyone who saw the brutal demolition.

Three weeks they sat, and planned, and waited. Three weeks they watched, prepared for the next attack. It never came. Whether Milton and his puppets were conspiring to take them out for good or had just settled in and thought they had won, he didn’t know or care. They’d waited long enough.

They knew where Milton was. They knew where the Kings were. They had their weapons, and an army to wield them, even if their enemies didn’t know it yet. Sam’s heart thudded away in his chest as he looked out over the people gathered before him, the ruins of Midtown at his back, the sun setting to the west.

“You all know the risks,” he said clearly, his voice carrying over the silent streets. No one so much as coughed. “You all know what we’re fighting for.” Sam gestured behind him. “This is what we’re fighting for! These men do not care for you or your family. They do not care for the lives they stole from you!

“These men fight for glory and fame,” he continued, his nerves fading and his will growing with every word. “But if you look to those who stand beside you, you will see what we fight for. Justice! Security! We fight for life!”

“Freedom is ours!” came a few cries from the crowd. Dean, who stood to Sam’s right, echoed the statement with an enthusiasm Sam hadn’t heard in years.

“Freedom is ours,” repeated Sam, earning more cries of agreement. “But first we must take it back from those who stole it from us!”

The roar that greeted his words was sure to frighten any who heard it. And as Sam descended from his platform, his friends and family flocking to his side, he couldn’t help but smile. This was it. This was what he was put here to do.

One way or another, for better or for worse, the sun would rise on a very different New York.


	22. Pay Back

His heart ached at the bones they encountered along the way. Far too many to count, and some so small they had to belong to children. He actually averted his eyes as they passed the place where his old apartment building had stood. Cas knew for a fact less than half the residents had escaped. Most of the casualties were kids under the age of twelve.

It had been almost two months since the first attack on Midtown, but it felt like a lifetime ago. So much had changed since then, and Cas still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it all. Learning the truth about his parents had been hard, but learning his brother had survived was even worse, somehow.

He hadn’t been able to speak to Gabriel properly, yet. A part of him knew he would regret it later, especially if anything happened to Gabriel… he still couldn’t bring himself to face his older brother. Too many years had passed. Too much had happened, had changed. Castiel wasn’t even sure if Gabriel was his brother anymore.

Gabriel had been a boy, not much older than Cas, when he had last seen him. A laughing, joking prankster, always getting himself into trouble at school and at home with their parents. The complete opposite to Castiel. Now he was supposed to be a part of one of the deadliest gangs Cas had ever encountered in his time on the force. A gang where his parents had been officers before their deaths.

It was a lot for anyone to digest.

And anyway, it wasn’t really the time to be thinking of such things. He needed to focus on the task at hand, not the man creeping along behind him, nor the parents he had never really known. Sam had trusted him with this section of the plan. A plan that was tenuous at best.

But, tenuous or not, it was the plan they had. And they had to do something. There were still innocents trapped north of Midtown. Still families that needed their help.

Word had reached them late last night that the entire city had been surrounded by military forces, should the fighting extend beyond the borders. Cas didn’t expect it to. Not unless they lost, in which case he had no doubt the DMI leaders would attempt to spread their rule even further. Even though he knew they wouldn’t interfere, it was still chilling to know they were there.

The media would have caught on by now. The entire world would be watching the city of New York, waiting to see how this went.

Waiting to see who would emerge victorious.

Cas shook his head to clear his thoughts. He needed to concentrate. Especially now they had left the still smoking wasteland of Midtown behind. The gates into what was now enemy territory were closed, but there were no guards and they were easily opened. One of them actually dropped off its hinges and clattered to the street with a too-loud clang as it moved.

No one rushed to greet them, no traps triggered as he and his group ducked for any cover they could find. Still, Cas waited a full five minutes before he allowed them to move again. He couldn’t wait any longer. Every second counted, and every second lost meant less chance of succeeding.

They couldn’t afford to lose.

As their destination came into sight, Cas looked down at the little device attached to his belt, making sure it was still in place, still turned on. The last thing he needed was for that to fail on them, now. Especially as one of the men beside him called out, the clear sound of safety’s being clicked off echoing around him as he glanced up.

His curse of surprise was echoed by a few others as he raised his own gun, knowing it wouldn’t make much difference. His group numbered fifteen, including him.

There were at least fifty running towards them, all armed, all eyeing them with deadly intent.

And they didn’t stand a chance.

**||**

Charlie sighed as she stared in the general direction of where she knew Carnegie Hill would be. She couldn’t see it, of course, not with the slopes and towering buildings of Sugar Hill and Harlem between them. Even so, it wasn’t until Jo put a hand on her shoulder that Charlie turned away. They were here for a reason, and it wasn’t to stare south wistfully, wishing she was down there protecting her friends.

News about the military had been harrowing, but it had also sparked the hint of an idea within Charlie. There hadn’t been a proper military of America since the White House Riots of 2021. The people standing guard along the borders now would be everyday civilians, possibly even gangs if any felt threatened by the violence happening within the city right now. And if those in the city had been moved by Sam’s speeches…

It was a long shot, but long shots were all they had right now.

Despite DMI having claimed Blood Money territory for themselves, there wasn’t any sign they had left members behind to secure it. Charlie didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. It was too quiet, despite the faint shots to the south. It sounded like they were getting closer, but Charlie couldn’t tell for sure as Jo ushered her down another side street, weapon still pointed ahead.

While telling Jo she had forgiven her, Charlie still harboured a little resentment for keeping the truth from her for so long. She could understand why, but it still stung nonetheless. When she had seen Jo return from the rescue, covered in blood, her heart had nearly stopped in her chest. Charlie would always love Jo, but something between them had changed irrevocably. Things would never be the same again.

But then again, Charlie wasn’t sure she wanted them to be. She shook her head as they took yet another side street, trying to focus on her surroundings, like she’d been taught.

There were still civilians around, but none of them emerged from their homes. The occasional rustling curtain, the sporadic cry of infants or children, and the odd slamming door were the only signs anyone besides them existed. The streets were as empty as could be, and there was still no sign of any Dead Men.

“There it is,” murmured Ethan beside her, jerking his head in the direction of a rather plain looking building. It was by far the largest she’d seen so far, and large aerial atop the roof proved it was the place they wanted.

No one stood guard outside, and the inside appeared to be empty. Still, Jo took no chances as she ordered half of their group in front, to scout the way, while the other half guarded their rear. The first floor was clear, as was the second, and the third, even the fourth.

Yet when they reached the fifth level, when Charlie was finally beginning to believe they could pull this off, things quickly went to hell in a handbasket.

The men and women ahead of her screamed, a sound that was echoed by those behind her as the building shook and trembled. She hadn’t heard a bang, but suddenly the stairwell was filling with a thick, black smoke.

And then the gunshots started.

**||**

Sam let out a roar as he charged from the shadows of Central Park, aiming for the gate that would take him to the heart of Harlem. That roar was echoed by Dean to his right, then Osmin to his left, then by the men and women behind him as the guards on the gate turned too slow.

More ran their way at the commotion, guards from other gates nearby, but they died just as quickly as their comrades. There was no chance for a reprieve however. More men met them as they forced their way through Harlem, the groups getting bigger and deadlier the closer they got to the clubhouse.

A part of him couldn’t help but wonder what was going on with the other teams as they moved, making as much noise as possible. He should have seen those videos by now. Cas and Gabe should have managed to get them up by now, unless something had gone wrong. He had no way of knowing if Charlie and Jo had managed it.

Either way, he couldn’t stop to ponder their fates. Not if he wanted to give them a fighting chance. The group behind him was big enough to, hopefully, draw out the bulk of DMI’s forces. He lost three as they moved through the streets. One from a shot to the knee, another two to drag him to safety.

Three wasn’t so bad. He still had plenty left. It might have been callous to think so lightly of any kind of loss to his group. Right then, though, Sam couldn’t afford to think any other way. If he thought too hard about all the lives he was risking in that moment he might very well shatter.

He couldn’t afford to break, though. So many people depended on him. Not just the people who fought with him, but those trapped under DMI rule, too, even if they didn’t realise it yet. Again he snuck a glance at the nearest billboard, his heart sinking when all he saw was some advertisement for DMI recruits. Like every other he had passed so far.

Three blocks out from the clubhouse, Sam led his force north instead of going in. They knew from Osmin’s scouts that the clubhouse was heavily guarded. Apparently, none of them had any interest in moving from their posts, even to investigate the rowdy group only streets away. Sam growled as the others picked up their chant, Dean included.

“FREEDOM IS OURS!”

Sam didn’t join in. When still no one else came to greet them, he took them one block closer. That worked. As they’d planned, his group spread out to block the street behind from view as at least fifty men appeared ahead of them, various weapons drawn. Osmin dropped back behind the lines, Benjamin stepping up to take his place beside Sam. Like Sam, he wasn’t chanting with the rest.

They waited as the other group took up a defensive position, but Sam glanced at Benjamin when he noticed the other man staring. There was a steely look of determination of his face, his jaw set. Benjamin nodded once, before his face split into a grin that reminded Sam of Kat.

“For her,” he said, that grin twisting into something truly frightening as he turned his gaze back to those blocking the path ahead. Sam followed his gaze as Benjamin took up the chant finally, his voice almost a roar. Then he spared a quick glance over his shoulder, receiving a single nod from Jonesy, who stood near the back. Osmin had disappeared from view.

But it was the billboard behind Jonesy that caught Sam’s eye. A billboard that showed his face, his words printed in subtitles along the bottom of the screen. The image was echoed on a TV he could see through an open window, and he could faintly hear his own voice crying out for New York to fight back.

Only then did Sam join in their battle cry.

He charged forward on his third call, Dean quickly falling into step beside him, Benjamin already one step ahead. He raised his weapon on his forth call, the action copied on either side. He fired on the fifth, the sound echoing in his ears and drowning out the calls of the men and women beside him, behind him.

The front line dropped before the enemy began firing back. Sam didn’t let himself consider what would happen as he continued running towards them, barely noticing the bullets and blasts falling apart and fizzling out before they ever reached him. The shields held, giving Sam hope they held for Cas and Gabe, and for Charlie and Jo, and all the other groups.

No one from his side dropped this time. No one from his side screamed aside from in victory when the last of the Dead Men fell, the path ahead clear for now.

Sam slowed to a jog as they passed what was left of those who had stood in their way, but they didn’t stop. They turned east, back towards their true destination, Sam’s face on every screen and billboard they passed. The connection remained unbroken.

As the now DMI clubhouse came into sight, Sam’s hopes that they could actually pull this off grew. Their plans had worked, and the few remaining guards around the building either fled or died trying to stop them. Sam didn’t look back as he charged up the steps to the clubhouse, Dean still by his side.

He kicked the front doors open and charged in, managing to make it all of three steps before something bit into his arm. Another two before he realised his mistake, Dean crying out in pain beside him. Benjamin outright screamed before he disappeared from Sam’s view, another taking his place.

The shield had failed the second they had stepped foot into the building.

Sam didn’t bother turning around as he fired back at the Dead Men in front. Didn’t think to stop as he continued to charge forward.

The chanting had stopped. Now all he could hear were screams.


	23. Betrayed

Despite the death and destruction surrounding her, Kat couldn’t stop her smile when she noticed the big billboards had shifted. Sam roared at her from every screen she could see. Hopefully on every screen throughout the city, and beyond. As far as they could reach.

Her smile quickly faded at the shots echoing through the streets. She could only hope the other groups were safe. There would be no way to know who wouldn’t make it until the end, and only if she made it herself. Which, given her task, shouldn’t be too hard.

Her group numbered four, including herself. Ellen, Bobby, and a civilian teenager called Alice, were her only backup, but none of them would actually be fighting. She hoped. If she didn’t know how important her task actually was, Kat might have been insulted at being kept from the thick of it.

No one else knew about her group besides Sam. Not even Stefan knew where she was or what she was doing right then. It had been decided last minute, upon learning about the new barricade at the city’s edge. It had been her idea to keep the plan a secret, one Sam had quickly agreed to. They had no way of knowing if everyone who had joined them was trustworthy.

It was better to be safe than sorry.

From their chosen spot, Katka had a great view of both the city, and the surrounding forces. There were four tanks she could see on the other side of the river, portable machine guns full of men and women spaced between them as far as she could see. Even more people crammed into the spaces between them, and behind, all armed to the teeth.

The perfect army.

Ever since the broadcast’s had begun, people had started running up and down the lines, delivering what she hoped were positive messages to any superiors amongst their ranks. It was her job to convince them to help, but hopefully Sam’s words would make her task easier.

“Well,” she sighed eventually, turning to Ellen, Bobby, and Alice behind her, “we’re not convincing anyone sitting up here on our asses.”

The other three nodded their consent and agreement, straightening with her and putting their weapons away. Kat tucked her pistol into the holster at her hip, leaving it in plain sight. She felt almost naked as she started towards the bridge, what with her lack of weapons. That pistol at her side was her only protection, at Sam’s orders. She couldn’t exactly convince these people she meant well if she turned up armed and ready to fight.

Bobby fell into step to her left as she reached the bridge, Ellen and Alice to her right. All three of them had their hands in air in surrender, like her. Kat barely spared them a glance before focusing on the large group jogging out to meet them half way.

This had to work. They had no other options.

The walk seemed to take forever, the other side getting further away with each step. Kat’s heart thudded in her chest, every instinct in her screaming at her to run in the other direction. She slowed her steps as the armed group neared, the others falling a step behind, before she finally stopped, arms still raised in the air.

It took less than thirty seconds for the opposing force to surround them, guns and blasters all aimed inwards at them. Kat swallowed when she saw a machine gun and an RFB aimed at her head and chest respectively. She waited impatiently as the silence stretched on, until finally one of the circle stepped forward, his blaster slung casually over his shoulder.

“State your name and district loudly and clearly, and throw down your weapons,” said the man in an almost cheerful tone, eyeing each of them in turn. Kat resisted the urge to growl at the way his eyes lingered on Alice the longest.

“My name is Katka Biekral,” she said loudly, and clearly, keeping her gaze locked on the apparent leader. “But you might know me better as KB, former leader of Multitude.”

The narrowed eyes told her he did, in fact, know who she was. And, like most people she encountered, he hadn’t been expecting a woman. A few safety’s clicked off at her words. Perhaps she shouldn’t have revealed that information so soon. The leader dropped his blaster into his waiting hand, but he didn’t rest his finger on the trigger.

“We’re not here to fight,” she said, pulling her pistol from its holster slowly. A few jumped at her movements, but thankfully, no one fired as Bobby, Ellen, and Alice did the same. Their own weapons fell to the ground near her pistol before they all raised their hands again.

“Then what do you want?” asked the leader, his blue eyes still narrowed on her.

“I know you’ve seen the broadcasts by Sam Winchester,” she started, noting those who exchanged confirming glances. “I know you know what we are fighting for. There are innocent people in this city, innocent people who are suffering because there is no one to help them. And here you stand, with the ability to help, to free them… and you do nothing.”

There were a few snarls at the end of her words, and someone even asked why they should bother helping gangs and thieves. Katka ignored them all, giving her full attention to their leader. He was the one she had to convince. He was the one who held their fate in his calloused hands.

“Jacob,” said a woman beside him, her face unreadable as she glanced at Kat, then back at the leader. ‘Jacob’ glanced down at the woman briefly, before his gaze hardened and he turned back to Kat.

This has to work. It has to work…

“Take them.”

**

Sam grunted as the bullet grazed his shoulder. The impact knocked him back, but he managed to keep his feet as he lined up the shooter. He fired, but Dean and Benny were faster. Three bullets met the shooter in the chest, but another quickly took his place. Sam dropped down behind their makeshift barrier to reload, his breath coming in short, shallow pants.

They’d been fighting their way through the clubhouse for a good hour at least by his judgement. Sam hadn’t stopped to count how many he’d already lost. Most of his group were split throughout the building now, anyway. No point in sticking together if the shields didn’t work.

He also didn’t stop to wonder why the shields had failed. DMI shouldn’t have known they had them, so they shouldn’t have known to counteract them.

It didn’t matter how they knew, though. The shields were gone, there was nothing he could do to change that. All they could do now was keep pushing and hope they could succeed without them. Sam had hoped they had drawn most of DMI out on their way in, however there were so many left behind he was beginning to wonder if they actually could win this war.

It certainly wasn’t looking good.

“This is insane!” yelled one of the civilians with them over the noise. She was bent down beside Sam, her face pale and her hair falling from her bun in sweat-damp, curled wisps. “There’s too many!”

“Brother!” yelled another voice. Sam looked up to see Egg bent low around the nearest corner. Bullets flying overhead kept him from moving closer, but once he met Sam’s eyes he nodded, then raised his arm.

Sam caught the blast grenade easily, flashing Egg a quick grin of thanks. “Get down!” he ordered Dean and Benny quietly, waiting for them to drop before he pulled the pin and launched the grenade over the barricade.

The resulting blast knocked them all on their asses, the barricade actually moving them back a few feet. The ringing in Sam’s ears wasn’t a good sign. They’d been too close. He could see Dean shouting something, but heard nothing besides that high-pitched ringing. He gestured to his ears to indicate he couldn’t hear, Dean and Benny both doing the same thing. He turned to find the civilian woman, only to see her disappearing around the corner where Egg had been moments before.

The ringing had started to fade by the time Sam stood to inspect the damage. The hall ahead had been obliterated, with a new hole in the floor and roof. There was still enough floor to get around the hole, but Sam didn’t trust it to be stable after that blast.

Stumbling, blinking the smoke and dust from his eyes, and ignoring the stinging pain in his shoulder, Sam, Benny, and Dean followed after Egg and the woman. By the time they reached the end of that hall, Sam’s hearing had returned.

Fighting was going on all around them, but the immediate area was clear for now. Egg sat with the woman, who was breathing deeply and looking worse for wear. Sam was about to tell Egg to get her out when she met his gaze and nodded.

“I’m still here,” she said confidently, pushing herself to her feet and lifting her blaster a little higher. “Freedom is ours.”

Sam only nodded before he led them down another hall, where he could hear the most commotion. More bullets peppered the walls as they walked, forcing them to drop to their stomachs until the gunfire abated. After briefly checking to ensure none with him had been shot, Sam pushed himself to his feet and moved as fast as he could in an awkward crouch.

His heart and hopes lifted slightly when he rounded the corner and saw Stefan engaged with a number of Dead Men. If he was there, then hopefully his group of sixty were with him. The more people they had, the better chance of succeeding.

They joined the fray without a word, Stefan giving Sam a grateful nod before focusing back on the Dead Men. His roar was almost as loud as the shots themselves. A part of Sam wondered if the man suspected where his cousin was right then. Surely he had to realise Katka wouldn’t sit this one out.

When the area finally fell silent and the last Dead Man fell, Sam turned to the others.

“We need to get higher,” he told them, half his gaze on the nearest hall in case anyone came up on them. “The Kings and Milton will be up top somewhere. We need to find them and end this as soon as we can.”

“Mills thinks he found a way up,” said Stefan. “I was coming to find you when these guys surprised me.”

“Lead the way,” said Sam. Stefan nodded before he turned and started off. No one else spoke as they followed him. It was only then he noticed Laura, the woman he’d rescued back in the Valley, was also there. She smiled at him when their eyes met.

Given all that had happened lately, Sam had completely forgotten about her. He briefly wondered if she had managed to find her uncle, yet, and felt a little guilty for not offering more help to find him. Hopefully she would understand, though. He’d had more important things to think about recently.

A total of eight more people met them as they moved through the building, all of them dropping swiftly. There seemed to be less of them, now, and Sam finally let himself believe they could actually pull this off after all. At least, until he passed the next window, anyway.

Everything started to fall apart the minute Sam saw Cas on his knees in the square out the front. Six others were with him, but Gabriel was nowhere to be seen, neither was the rest of Cas’s group. Their arms were raised, hands resting on their heads, all six of them staring down the firing squad mere feet before them.

“CAS!” screamed Dean when he saw the reason Sam had stopped dead in his tracks. Before Sam knew what was happening, Dean was rushing back the other way, heading back down for the exit, still screaming Cas’s name. Sam only looked away from the scene outside when he heard Dean’s cry of pain.

More Dead Men swarmed the hallway, Dean disappearing from sight as four dragged him away.

“DEAN!” Sam started shooting, but only three men fell before they were on him. Cries of shock told him the others had been grabbed, too. Stefan’s roar of pain had Sam struggling even more, but it was no use. The butt of a gun came for his face, and then there was nothing.

**

When Sam came to again, the first thing he noticed was that he couldn’t move his hands. He strained, the ropes cutting into his wrists, but they didn’t budge an inch. Dean was tied up to his left, head hanging and blood trickling down his face. Benny was further down, concerned eyes on Dean’s limp form. Sam’s heart leapt into his throat, but at the call of his name, Dean stirred.

“Sammy?”

“I’m here,” said Sam quickly, turning to his right and spotting Stefan, Egg, and the woman, all in the same predicament, but all three awake and alert. “We’re all here.”

Yet as he said it, Sam realised he was wrong. They weren’t all there. Laura was nowhere to be seen, and Sam only hoped it meant she got away.

The thought had barely crossed his mind when the door opened and a man he didn’t recognise stepped into the room. Sam growled when Milton followed the stranger into the room, a massive, shit-eating grin on his lips. And then his heart stopped dead when he saw who was behind him.

No. It was Laura.

It didn’t take him long to work out how DMI had found out about their shields. They’d been betrayed. All hope fled as the door clicked closed behind Laura. She’d known about all their plans, had been present every time they had gathered to make them.

“You bitch,” snarled Stefan, murder written all over his face as he glared up at the woman who’d ruined everything. “Should have left you to rot in the Valley you dumb fucking slut-”

Stefan’s insults were cut short when Milton back-handed him across the face. Then he bent, his grubby hand wrapping around Stefan’s throat as he got in his face. Sam’s blood was boiling as he continued to tug on his restraints, even knowing it was useless.

“Don’t talk to my niece like that, you little shit,” snarled Milton, only backing up when the stranger called his name. Niece. Sam should have known. He should have realised sooner. “You should kill them all now, Chris. Before they have a chance to escape.”

“They’re not going anywhere,” answered the stranger, his voice soft and calm. Sam quickly realised he must have been the DMI President. Chris Jones, also known as CJ. “They’re my prisoners, and I’m going to make an example of them.”

The door opened again then, allowing a flood of men to enter the room. Laura and Milton left without another word, both grinning like Cheshire cats. Sam tried to fight the men who hauled him to his feet, but it was useless. Two hits to the face and he was too dazed to do anything other than stumble along blindly between them.

No one else spoke as they were half-dragged, half-carried through the building and out into the early morning sun. He must have been out longer than he’d thought, for the sun to have risen again.

It really was over.

After everything they’d been through, all their planning, and they had still lost.

The square outside the clubhouse was empty save for a small, makeshift stage, closer to the gathered crowd than the building. A line of armed and armoured men stood behind the stage, and it was before those men Sam and the others were forced to their knees. In the same position he had last seen Castiel. Sam didn’t hold out any hope he had survived, or any of the others.

Not since they had been betrayed.

The concrete beneath his knees was stained a deep, dark brown from the dried blood of those who had died for this fight. Those who had died in vain. At least Sam could die knowing he had tried his best.

Chris took to the stage and gave a little speech about the dangers of dissent, but Sam didn’t hear a word of it. His eyes scanned the gathered crowds, desperately searching for some sign of friends, or at the very least, some allies. He didn’t expect to make it out of this alive, didn’t want anyone to try and save him… but he had to know there was someone to continue the fight, at least.

His gaze connected with a familiar set of brown eyes, and relief flooded through him. Osmin had his head covered with a hood, but Sam knew it was him. A few other hooded figures stood nearby, meaning he wasn’t totally alone. Osmin would never give up.

When their eyes met, Sam nodded to show he was okay with this, and that it was now up to Osmin and whatever men he had left.

“These traitors die today!” called Chris, to the utter silence of the crowd before him. Sam kept his eyes on Osmin, who shook his head subtly.

“READY!”

Over a dozen blasters raised in their direction. Four of them were pointed solely at Sam. Osmin’s face split into a wicked grin as a two-note whistle sounded through the crowd.

“AIM!”

Fingers went to triggers, safety’s clicked off. Sam spared one last glance at his brother, only to find he was watching something in the crowd with a frown.

“FIRE!”


	24. The End

“FIRE!”

Sam heard them before he saw them. Heard the raucous echoing through the streets long before they ever came into view. He exchanged another glance with Dean as the roars grew louder, Chris falling silent on his stage. No one fired their weapons as the men before him turned in shock.

The new group burst into the open area with a cry Sam was all too familiar with. Osmin and his men threw off their hoods as the cries swelled, the chant being picked up by a few in the crowd, too. Screams filled the air, accompanied by the frenzied shooting of Dead Men. Over half of the front line in the new group fell, but the chant never stopped, and the group didn’t falter in their charge.

“Freedom is ours! Freedom is ours!”

Sam watched in stunned disbelief as more and more people stopped running away, then turned to run back into the thick of the fighting. The new group collided with the Dead Men as Sam threw himself forward to avoid stray bullets. Dean’s comforting weight landed beside him, and a quick check told him he was still unharmed for the most part. The chant grew even louder as more swarmed in from the north, the sound almost deafening.

“Freedom is ours! Freedom is ours!”

A roar beside him made Sam look up. Milton barrelled towards them, blaster in hand, only to fall less than ten steps from them under a hail of gunfire from behind. He didn’t rise again, his light blue shirt quickly turning brown with blood.

Charlie and Jo charged into the square and over Milton’s body, a host of people following them, making a beeline straight for Sam and the others. A nearby car exploded as they reached them, sending them all to their knees for a moment.

“Looks like we made it just in time,” shouted Charlie as she and the others went to work freeing them from their restraints. Sam didn’t have the words to convey his gratitude as he was handed a new weapon. A wicked grin from Dean was all it took to get him moving again.

“FREEDOM IS OURS! FREEDOM IS OURS!”

More explosions went off as Sam moved through the crowd, taking out anyone sporting DMI colours. He didn’t need to check to know Katka would be leading the new group. She must have succeeded in convincing those outside the city in joining them. When he spotted some colours from New Jersey, Sam realised she hadn’t just gotten the military involved; she had convinced outside gangs to join them, too.

A third group emerged from the east, sporting various colours of Queens and Brooklyn gangs, all chanting the same thing as they charged after a group of Dead Men attempting to flee. Sam couldn’t help but laugh when he saw Gabriel and Castiel leading that force, faces skewed with their cries. He didn’t stop to ponder how Cas had escaped. He was alive, they’d survived.

They were going to win after all.

“FREEDOM IS OURS! FREEDOM IS OURS!”

That thought had barely crossed his mind when the chanting finally stopped, to be replaced with cheers all around. Through the crowd he could see men kneeling, Dead Men who had surrendered rather than die, surrounded by cheering men and women.

They had done it. They had won.

Scanning the crowd as they hollered and cheered, Sam’s eyes met Dean’s. The look on his brother’s face was almost enough to break him, but that look shifted mere moments later. Sam couldn’t help but smile as Dean’s gaze shifted to find Cas running through the crowd towards him. Sam turned away as Dean and Cas met in a massive hug, the former actually sobbing his relief.

Similar scenes were taking place everywhere he looked. Jo and Charlie stood not far away, arms wrapped around each other as they yelled along with the civilians around them. Stefan and Benjamin were a few feet further away, both fussing over a rather annoyed looking Kat. She smiled brightly when their eyes met, a smile Sam returned eagerly.

Bobby and Ellen were also smiling as they spoke with some younger civilians, no older than seventeen, Sam guessed. All three of the teens looked bruised and battered, but all three were smiling as brightly as everyone else. Sam watched as one of them looked up at a call, then jumped to his feet as an older woman broke through the crowd to meet him.

“You did it, brother!” cried Osmin from behind. Sam turned in time to be pulled into a bone-crushing hug, the Dominican leader positively beaming from ear to ear. He actually shook Sam by the shoulders as he pulled back, his joy almost uncontainable it seemed. “You actually fucking did it!”

“No,” said Sam with a wild, almost giddy grin of his own, “we did it. Together.”

“But you brought us together,” said Roger, appearing on Osmin’s left. Sam offered him a somewhat surprised smile, but the other just shrugged him off.

“He’s right,” said another Sam didn’t recognise, a man who quickly introduced himself as the former Nomad’s president. “I ain’t never seen so many gangs working together like this, and with civilians, too.”

“You’ve officially done the impossible, Chief,” came Benny’s voice then. Sam turned again to see his family joining their little group; Dean, Cas, Jo, Charlie, Ellen, Bobby, Kat, the remaining members of Multitude behind them. The cheering died down as the others began to turn, all eyes finding Sam in the middle. Sam’s own gaze slid to the groups being moved to the centre of the square.

They had won, but things weren’t over, yet.

The crowd fell silent as Sam moved forward, eyes locked on the surviving Dead Men. Chris Jones was amongst them, his hateful glare locked on Sam as the people parted to let him pass. The remaining DMI officers were lined up in front alongside their leader.

The Kings of New York.

Sam almost laughed.

Without him having to say a word, his friends and family took up places before the stage. Only Dean and Kat followed him onto the stage itself, taking up places to his right and left respectively. He swallowed thickly as he faced the crowd before him, his enemies at his back.

“I’m sure, by now, you all know who I am,” he began, his voice carrying clearly over the now silent streets. However, at his words, people began to call his name, while others called him things like ‘saviour’ and ‘warrior’ and ‘protector’.

“You saved us all!” someone called, before someone else took up the Multitude motto once more. Two more joined in before Sam raised his hand and silence fell again.

“You all stand here thinking I saved you, but you’d be wrong. I didn’t save you, I simply showed you how to save yourselves. New York is your home, and you are the ones who took it back. You are the ones who stood up to the tyrants in your city and said no more. All I did was show you the way, it was on you to have the courage to follow.”

“New York is ours!” called another, a sentiment that was repeated several times before it got lost in a sea of cheering and screaming. Sam smiled at the unbridled joy sweeping through the survivors.

“You’re right, New York is yours!” he called back after a few moments, having to yell to be heard over the cheers. Those cheers turned to boos as he gestured to the men behind him. “Never again will you bow to tyrants and sycophants like these men! Never again will your children go to sleep to the sounds of fighting on the streets!”

Once again the cheers grew too loud for him to be heard, and Sam let them have their moment. It wasn’t until people started calling for executions that he raised his hand again and waited for the noise to die down. Executions were a given, for the officers at the very least. However it wouldn’t do to have them rile themselves up again, not now it was over.

And as he watched the people gathered before him, took note of the hope and joy on their faces and in their voices, Sam finally let himself believe they had won.

**

It took six long, tiring months for the city to return to normal; or, rather, as normal as could be after such destruction. Most of the city had been rebuilt, or was in the process of being rebuilt. Even though the DMI clubhouse had technically been the Dominican’s first, that building had been torn down instead of rebuilt. A memorial now stood in the centre of where it had been, engraved with all the names of those who hadn’t survived that final fight.

Milton was one of them, but no one bothered to carve his name anywhere. No one knew where his niece had gone; Sam suspected Laura Milton would be long gone by now.

They didn’t rebuild in Midtown, either. Once the wreckage was cleared away the entire stretch had been converted to grassland and added on as an extension of Central Park. Trees were planted in honour of those who had died in the Midtown fires. Everyone he spoke to agreed it was a definite improvement for the city.

Four days after the final fight, and all the votes on what to do with the DMI officers were in. Of all the thousands of votes that had been received, only five had asked for mercy. The very next day, all eight men were publically executed in the middle of the still smoking Midtown ruins, including Chris Jones. The remaining members were put on trial in the following months, their fates individually decided by the public they had once terrorised. Most died.

Sam wasn’t at all surprised at the public’s reaction. He had suspected they would seek death as retribution for all the pain and suffering they had caused. If he was being honest, Sam was more surprised at the number of men they let live. And even then, the thing that truly surprised him the most happened exactly two weeks after that final fight with Dead Man Incorporated.

The day of the fight, Sam had discovered that most of the general public had already considered him as their leader in a way. Most had assumed he would take control of the city once they had won, but Sam had no intention of ruling. When he had told them as much, they had grown confused, almost upset by his declaration. It was only by convincing them to hold another vote, one to decide who would lead them, that he managed to avoid outright panic.

The Election Day was to be held two weeks later, and without even realising he had been a candidate, Sam won by a landslide majority. He was the first Mayor to be named in almost thirty years, and was hesitant to accept the position. It was only because of Dean’s convincing that he agreed as humbly as he could.

Because he knew they wouldn’t have achieved anything without their support, Sam had taken anyone still willing to fight into Queens and Brooklyn to settle things down there. Thankfully, once news of what had happened with DMI reached those districts, the remaining supporters there had fled. Order was quickly reinstated, and Sam was left to focus on Manhattan again.

All gang territories were disbanded. Gates between districts were torn down, opening the city up for all, as it should have been all along. Those in gangs who had aided in freeing the people of New York were allowed to keep their colours and their names, then given legal status as clubs, and the chance to turn legit. Anyone caught attempting to control, or falling back into old habits was swiftly dealt with.

Four months after the fall of Dead Man Incorporated, and news arrived that shocked Sam to his very soul. The rest of the state had been influenced by their war it seemed. Buffalo to Syracuse to Albany, all of them had turned against the gangs oppressing them. By the end of the fifth month, the state of New York was the only gang free place in all of America.

He had succeeded in ways he had never thought possible, and Sam was more than grateful for all he’d been given as a result. And he didn’t mean the position he was in now.

No, he was grateful for the family he’d made along the way.

He was grateful for the friendships forged, and the bonds renewed.

Jo and Charlie were closer than ever, with Charlie even proposing one evening as they had all gathered in the new section of Central Park for a party. They were due to marry next year around Christmas. It had been Jo who had told him the story of how they had survived; a club known as Double-Set, from the Bronx, had arrived just in time to save their asses from DMI.

It had taken some time, but Castiel finally forgave Gabriel. It had been Gabe who had saved Cas from the firing squad Sam and Dean had seen. From what Sam had been told, it was only moments after they had spotted him on his knees. They had fled together and spent the rest of the night convincing whoever they could find to help them.

Sam had also grown close to many of the remaining Multitude members. None of them resented him for his choices in regards to gangs. Kat even confessed to him one night it was what she, and Henry before her, had been working towards for years.

A free New York.

Being Mayor, under his own rules, meant Sam couldn’t technically be leader of Multitude anymore, either. His first instinct had been to give the seat back to Katka, but she had refused it again. There was still one more Winchester who could lead, she had told him. To his everlasting credit, Dean had accepted the seat graciously. Unsurprisingly, he handled the position well, even seemed to enjoy it from what Sam could tell.

As for Kat… things between them had been awkward in the beginning. Yet it wasn’t long before he put everything that had happened behind him, and asked her out on a proper date. A real one, where neither of them would be hiding, or lying about who and what they were. A fresh start, for both of them.

It had taken six long, tiring months, but after all he had been through, after all he had seen… Sam finally felt at peace.


End file.
